


No One Would Despise Me

by Tifer14



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe - Priests, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluffy, Hotch as Priest, M/M, Masturbation, Priest Kink, Rossi as Priest, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 114,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7555966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tifer14/pseuds/Tifer14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Struggling with renewed cravings, Spencer Reid stumbles out into a storm in search of a distraction. On a darkened street in a dilapidated church, there is a chance he finds salvation. Or at least a very attractive and very unattainable priest by the name of Father Aaron Hotchner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HopeToHoldOn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeToHoldOn/gifts), [AlexiCyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiCyn/gifts).



> So, I don't usually post something until I'm pretty much done with it or know exactly where I'm going. Yeah, this is pretty much all I have of this one so far but I got a request and I've been really excited about writing this for a while. Therefore, no concrete update schedule but hopefully posting this will push me to write the story.
> 
> Tags will be added. Rating will change. 
> 
> The title is from Song of Songs. Yeah, cliched bible title for priest!kink.

 

 

Spencer sat in the window seat of his D.C. apartment and watched the rain streak down the glass pane, rivulets chasing after each other in an endless race. In the distance thunder rumbled and usually he would have jumped but his forehead remained pressed against the cool glass, his unseeing eyes staring into the darkness. Images raced through his mind of the women with their hearts carved out of their chests, great caverns of blood and ragged bone gaping at him from autopsy tables, of a little boy winking at his father as he was led away with blood-stained hands, of the school nurse tied to a post in the basement her neck still warm as he held a hand to her pulse even though her heart was lying in a puddle on the floor. They hadn’t made it in time. They hadn’t understood that the Unsub was using his son as bait. No one had made the link to the school times and more women had died because they just weren’t quick enough. Spencer’s blunt nails scored into the skin at his elbow again and again. If he’d cared to look he would have seed red drops bleeding into the fabric of his white shirt. He didn’t care to look. He remembered from last time. He knew this siren call and that he was destined to answer.

 

A few weeks ago he would have called his sponsor. John’s number was still on speed dial right after Morgan's. He knew what John would say in a calm, even, encouraging tone: “Get to a meeting, Spencer. Call me when you’re done.” The imagined voice reverberated around Spencer’s head and he snorted in derision, his breath fogging up the glass. A meeting. He’d heard what had happened to Agent Donovan when it had been revealed that he had been attending NA. Of course, they couldn’t fire him but the sideways promotion into White Collar Crimes sent a clear message: “We don’t want no addicts on our front lines.” A meeting. No, that was no longer an option not if he wanted to keep his job. Did he want to keep his job? Was it worth the nightmares? If he left would there be anything to keep him from little vials of clear fluid that called to him from the corner of his bathroom cabinet.

 

Without conscious thought, Spencer was moving, running, fleeing his apartment. He grabbed his keys and toed on his shoes before slamming the door behind him and darting into the rain drenched streets where horns honked at him as he blindly stumbled towards the park at the end of the block. Within two minutes he was soaked to the bone, within five his feet were sloshing about in the puddles in his shoes, but he kept walking with his head bowed, his hair a curtain that did nothing to shield him from the bloody images in his mind. Nervously, his eyes darted around before he hopped over the iron fence but be was alone, the rain soaked streets deserted. The swings rocked violently in the wind as he shivered, his white shirt clinging to his frozen skin. Striding forward he headed off over the grass with no clear destination in mind. He just had to get away from the drugs and the death and stink of failure. He hopped another fence, ran across another street, ducked down an alleyway and just kept walking.

 

Another lightning bolt shattered the sky above his head, finally jerking his head up from his whirling reverie of self-loathing and recriminations. Looking around, he realised that he was in an unfamiliar part of the city. The streets were empty and a glance at his watch showed that it was just past one in the morning. The rain continued unabated and Spencer finally realised just how cold he was. He wanted to go home but he wasn’t even sure which direction he should head in. The houses here were small with patchy lawns. The streets lined with overflowing garbage cans. Thunder rolled and Spencer’s eyes were drawn upwards to the neon red cross down the block flashing intermittently into the night. A small sign, illuminated by the struggling streetlamps read Church of Our Lady of the Annunciation. The building was a dilapidated wreck of barred windows and an ajar door. Spencer glanced up and down the street again but there was no sign of a cab trawling for a fare. Feeling like he had little choice, he ducked into the building and out of the torrential rain.

 

The relative warmth of the church struck Spencer like a blow and shivered violently, shaking droplets of water out of his hair and onto the hard flagstone floor. The room seemed deserted until he noticed a benevolent mother in shades of blue gazing down at a small bundle in her arms, her warm smile illuminated by a scattering of flickering candles at her feet. The only other light in the room came from a swaying fixture bolted into the ceiling, the beautifully wrought iron at odds with the functional if somewhat cracked concrete. Rows of dark wooden pews lined at small aisle which led to an even smaller altar draped with a white cloth and a blood red runner. The colour made Spencer’s empty stomach lurch and he stumbled, his hip striking against the font of holy water and sloshing its contents onto his already sodden pants. An unseen door at the end of the room opened and Spencer found himself reaching for his absent gun as he plastered himself against the cold, chipped plaster. Glancing round the corner, he saw a young man emerge from the confessional. His shoulders were rounded and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his hoodie. As he approached, Spencer took in his sunken eyes, the sharp caverns beneath his cheekbones. His hair was totally dry and Spencer wondered just how long he had been at the church or maybe he was just smarter and had brought an umbrella. When the boy reached Spencer, he looked up and a small nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Unconsciously, Spencer returned it.

 

“It’s raining,” the boy whispered.

 

“Yes,” Spencer croaked out, his voice ragged and hoarse.

 

“Your turn.” Before Spencer could ask exactly what the boy was talking about, he stepped out the door and, hesitating only slightly, disappeared into the rain.

 

“Have you come for confession?” A deep voice rumbled from the back of the church and Spencer was instantly transported to a graveyard in Georgia. Confess! Confess! Choose! Gideon hadn’t understood Spencer’s message. Gideon had never really understood anything about him and had left Spencer to save himself. Always left him to save himself as if his I.Q somehow disqualified him from struggling like every other human being. But he’d done it. He’d shot Tobias and dragged himself through the forest to a road where a farmer had nearly run him over with his truck before taking him back to his team, to apparent salvation. Perhaps, it wasn’t Gideon’s fault. Spencer had never really had someone who understood him. Not even his mother who’s mind warped reality into a dystopia of her own making.

 

He stared into the shadows and tried to make out the man’s face but all he could see was a strip of white beneath a strong jaw, the rest lost to the darkness of the cassock and the swaying light. Spencer swallowed heavily. “I don’t know.”

 

“I’ll wait here, then.” The man’s voice was warm and dark, soft and soothing as he stepped back into the confessional and closed the wooden door. Spencer took a step forward, his shoes squelching loudly in the sudden silence. The rain must have stopped. He glanced towards the door. He could leave now. He could ask for directions or just try to find his way home on his own. He could walk until he found a cab. He could walk until he collapsed from exhaustion.

 

Instead, he stepped quickly down the aisle, eyes alighting on the pained face of Jesus, strung up on the cross, rivulets of blood dripping into his eyes. The FBI would crucify him if his addiction ever came to light. Confess. The priest would never breathe a word to anyone at the FBI but maybe he would say the words that would quiet Spencer’s soul. Spencer Reid did not believe in the goodness of God but Spencer Reid, no matter what he saw, still believed in the goodness of man.

 

The wood was warm beneath his fingertips as he trailed them across the elaborate pattern of vines that covered the door of the confessional, separating it from the rest of the Church. Someone had clearly spent a great deal of time creating this beautiful representation of nature. A labour of love or piety. Spencer could appreciate both and the strength that they could give to a person struggling. His hand closed around metal handle and he hesitated. He didn’t believe. This would be nothing more than a sham. A desperate cry for help. Did he even really want to be helped? Wouldn’t it just be easier to go home and reach for the rubber tubing, the sterilized needle, to little vials that clinked together like tiny bells? And then what?

 

“They say confession is good for the soul,” Spencer hadn’t notice the priest open the door a crack, just enough to allow his voice to travel out. His deep baritone reverberated with amusement.

 

“I’m not sure I believe in souls,” Spencer murmured, his hand still pausing on the handle but that voice. That voice seemed to tug Spencer forward, seemed to warm him despite the cool air and his sodden clothes.

 

“Ah well, the heart then. I’m sure you believe in that.” Spencer believed in hearts. He’d seen one that very morning on the dusty floor of a cellar, still oozing blood. He choked back a sob. The priest’s voice was instantly sober, “Sit down, son. You don’t have to talk but it might do some good.”

 

Spencer nodded even though he knew it couldn’t be seen. Opening the door, he slipped into the confessional, pleased to see that it was lit by a dim light in its ceiling. There was a wooden grate between him and the priest who was also lit by half-light, his features still indiscernible beyond that strong jaw and a rather pointed nose.

 

“Hello,” Spencer stumbled over what to say now that he was here. He’d never done this before. He’d never imagined doing something like this.

 

“Hello,” the priest answered, a tinge of his previous amusement colouring his voice again. “I’ll assume this is your first confession?”

 

“Ah yes,” Spencer cracked his knuckles and shifted uncomfortably, aware of how even his boxers were damp with cold rain water. “I know what to say. I’ve read about it.”

 

“There’s no need to follow the script if you don’t want to. What brought you here tonight? It’s not exactly a night to be out wandering, although I suppose it is the weather for a dark night of the soul.”

 

Spencer hummed his agreement but he couldn’t bring himself to start talking. The priest remained silent, seemingly happy just to listen to Spencer’s ragged breathing. “I’m sorry,” he finally stuttered. “I don’t think I can do this.”

 

“You’re struggling with something. We also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance,and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us.”

 

“Because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. Romans 5, 3-5. I don’t believe in God or the Holy Spirit. No offence.”

 

“Yet you know your bible.”

 

“I like to read and I’ve got a good memory.”

 

“I wish my congregation liked to read as much as you.”

 

“That’s rubbish advice anyway. Be proud of your suffering because it makes you stronger. Thanks but I already had someone tell me that. It didn’t do me any good then and it won’t do me any good now.” That constant anger at Gideon and his platitudes bubbled to the surface again. The coward who ran and left Spencer shaking with impotent rage and a measly letter.

 

“Then perhaps you should talk to me and I could offer something more useful.”

 

Spencer paused again, almost desperate not to speak but suddenly the words were pouring out of him in a torrent: “I saw a woman tied to a post today with her heart cut out of her.” Spencer heard the sharp intake of breath from the other side of the partition but continued. “She was the ninth victim of a serial killer and we didn’t get there on time. We didn’t know he was using his son as bait. I didn’t connect the dots until it was too late and there was another victim. Another woman who should have been going home to her family. She was still warm when I took her pulse.” His laughter was hysterical even to his own ears. “I took her pulse even though her heart was on the floor by her feet, even though I was standing in her blood. I took her fucking pulse as if there still might be a chance and she was warm. Ten, fifteen minutes earlier and we might have been able to save her but we didn’t get it. I didn’t get it.”

 

“You’re carrying guilt that is not yours to carry.” The priest’s voice was still even though thicker as if he was the one choking on emotion.

 

“Aren’t we all guilty? Aren’t we all sinners? That’s your thing, isn’t it?”

 

“The sins of that man are not yours. You are weighing his iniquities with yours and that truly is too heavy a burden.”

 

“Psalm 38: For my iniquities have gone over my head; they weigh like a burden too heavy for me. My wounds grow foul and fester because of my foolishness; I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all day long I go around mourning.” Spencer intoned his voice hollow. “Correct assignation of guilt does not change that fact that she’s dead.”

 

“No. Nothing can change that.”

 

“Are you going to tell me that she is in Heaven?”

 

“Would you believe me if I did?”

 

“No.”

 

“What was her name?”

 

“Lisa Phillips.”

 

“I’ll pray for her soul.” The priest offered and Spencer huffed out an exasperated breath at the pointlessness of such an action. “It does no harm.”

 

“And that’s enough?”

 

“No, but there is nothing else I can offer her.”

 

Spencer sighed at the sadness in the priest’s tone. “Too often that’s the case. Nothing to offer the victims.”

 

“You caught her killer.”

 

“My team did, yes.”

 

“Why are you not turning to them for support?”

 

Spencer paused again as the conversation turned back towards him. “I – I don’t want to burden them and I’m worried about the consequences of sharing my struggle with them.”

 

“Surely they must all struggle.”

 

“I’m an addict.”

 

“Alcohol?” There was no condemnation in the priest’s tone. He didn’t even flinch.

 

“No. Narcotics. Primarily dilaudid.”

 

“How long have you been using?”

 

“No, I – um – I’ve been clean for over a year now.”

 

“Congratulations.” The warmth and sincerity brought a small smile to Spencer’s lips despite the subject matter.

 

“But this last case brought back the cravings. I just want to forget.”

 

“Understandable. How were you able to stop before?”

 

“I attended Narcotics Anonymous and I had a sponsor but that’s no longer an option.”

 

“And you can’t confide in your team because you fear losing your job.” Spencer nodded unseen at the unasked question. “So you came here.”

 

“Not consciously. I just wanted to go for a walk.”

 

“In the worst storm of the year, in the middle of the night.”

 

“I didn’t really notice the rain.”

 

The priest paused, seemingly weighing his words. “I am not a substance abuse counsellor but I’m glad that you are talking to me.”

 

“It has helped.” Spencer realised that he was no longer feeling that deep pull of his cravings, no longer feeling his skin crawling as buzzing.

 

“You can come and talk to me whenever you desire.”

 

“I don’t even know where I am.”

 

The priest chuckled softly. “You’re on Danbury St. in Bellevue. Do you have a way to get home?”

 

“Are you kicking me out?” Spencer asked, suddenly afraid to go back to his apartment and the temptation of the drugs in his bathroom.

 

“This is a church, son. Our door is always open.”

 

“Can I sit here for a few more minutes?”

 

“Of course. Would you like some privacy?”

 

“Yes, um. Thank you, um, father?”

 

“You can call me Hotch if you’d feel more comfortable. My name is Father Aaron Hotchner but some of the younger members of the parish call me by my nickname.”

 

“Oh, ok. Thank you, Hotch.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“That’s not really a traditional ending for confession, I guess.”

 

“Not really. Would you prefer: Give thanks to the Lord for He is good?”

 

“For His mercy endures forever,” Spencer mumbled before adding, “I read it in a book.”

 

“If you need anything call out. I’ll be in the next room.”

 

Spencer watched as the silhouette in the adjoining box rose and he listened to the soft brush of cloth that accompanied the door opening and closing before the priest’s footsteps faded out of hearing. He slid to the floor with his back to the wooden partition and shivered. It was silly to sit here in wet clothes but he found himself reluctant to leave. There was something so comforting about the presence of Father Hotchner that Spencer found himself reluctant to think too closely about. He let his eyes slide closed as his head lolled forwards and the emotional turmoil of the evening finally overcame him. Silently, he allowed himself to cry.


	2. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at me posting another chapter in a week. I'd love to promise weekly updates but I'm making this up as I go along so I don't feel I can commit to that. Ah, commitment phobic unlike Hotch.

Spencer woke with a start and a crick in his neck. Panic settled over him when he didn’t recognise his surroundings and it was probably a pretty damning assessment of his past life when his first thought was that he had been kidnapped again. But then he flexed his fingers and realised that he wasn’t restrained in any way. In fact, he seemed to have a soft warm blanket draped over him. So, probably not kidnapped. Blinking furiously with painfully dry eyes, he cursed himself for sleeping with his contacts in leaving his surroundings blurry and disorientating. Slowly the room came into focus and he remembered with a rush his rain-soaked walk last night and the strange church where’d he’d apparently decided confession was the answer to all his problems. He groaned as he realized that he had slept in the confessional booth and apparently the priest had covered him with a blanket at some point. What time was it? Reluctantly, he dragged his arm out from underneath the blanket, his fingers brushing against the soft material. Shades of blue gradually blended into each other from dark blue where the blanket was tucked up around his shoulders to pale blue near his feet. Almost six in the morning. Shit. He’d need to get a move on if he was going to make it to work on time. The priest had said he was in Bellevue. He’d never be able to go home to pick up his gun or he’d be really late. Luckily he had his credentials, phone, and wallet on him.

 

Reluctantly, he stood, his knees protesting at the position he had slept in. He folded the blanket and laid it carefully on the seat, brushing his fingers over it one last time. Stepping out, the door opened with a creak which made Spencer jump slightly as he peeked out into the church. The main room seemed empty but Spencer heard movement coming from another open door beside the altar. Hesitating, Spencer considered going to thank the priest for his kindness but he realised that there were two voices drifting towards him through the corridor. Spencer balked at the thought of coming face to face with another stranger and decided that, at this moment, retreat was the better part of valour.

 

The door of the confessional snapped shut behind him with an echoing click and Spencer glanced over his shoulder at the other open door as he tiptoed out of the church. He saw in the doorway the sharp outline of a man with his arms crossed over his broad chest. The sleeves of his dark shirt were drawn tight around his biceps and the strip of white beneath his chin seemed to shine in the darkness. Dark hair fell forward onto his pale forehead but the facial features were obscured by the half-light that lit the man from behind. Spencer briefly wondered if his eyes shared the shades of blue of the blanket. Pausing, Spencer considered going to thank him but the other man just raised one hand in a salute of farewell. Spencer returned the gesture and slunk out through the door and into the street.

 

The sun had not yet risen but the sky was growing pale and the streets were beginning to stir with people starting the day. Spencer glanced quickly up and down the street finally spotting a bus stop that he figured would take him in the right direction. A bus was just rounding the corner, Spencer glanced at the number and ran through his memorised information in his head for all the lines and their stops. Yup, that bus would do. Spencer sprinted to the stop, reaching it just as the bus pulled up. As he was taking his seat, he glanced out of the window just as a tall priest with black floppy hair threw open the door and set up a small metal sign saying: “God’s door is always open.” The priest looked over at the bus and Spencer caught a glimpse of deep, chocolate brown eyes. Yes, that suited the voice much more than blue. Just then another priest stepped up next to him and Spencer hesitated for a moment, his neck twisting and craning to keep them both in view as the bus continued down the street, but no the profile was all wrong. Chocolate eyes was his priest. The other one was shorter, rounder, with a slightly grizzled goatee. He too looked kind, was Spencer’s last thought before the bus turned a corner and both men were out of sight.

 

Spencer was only a couple of minutes late when he finally made it through the glass doors of the BAU. Prentiss raised an eyebrow in question but it was Morgan who stood up and loudly proclaimed to the room. “Well, look at you, Pretty Boy, still wearing yesterday’s suit. So, what’s her name?”

 

“Mary,” Spencer answered absentmindedly as he searched through his desk for his spare locker key. He still had a couple of clean shirts left in the go bag he’d been too distraught to take home with him last night. Everything had felt slightly numb since Gideon had disappeared the day after Frank had jumped in front of a train but today the world seemed a little brighter, a little clearer, there seemed to be an ounce of hope left in creation and that was all Spencer needed to believe. Well, not believe in God but maybe in the power of organised religion to improve one’s daily like.

 

“Mary,” Morgan leered, leaning in closer.

 

“Mary, Mother of God,” Spencer clarified. “I went to church.” Emily made a small startled noise and, when Spencer glanced over, he saw that her eyebrows now seemed to be trying to escape her face.

 

“Why did you go to church? I mean, you don’t strike me as the religious type, kid.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“So?”

 

“Look – it’s been really tough since Gideon left.” Spencer finally found his key and turned to his friend, perching on the corner of his desk. “I needed someone to talk to about everything and I ended up at the church. There was no revelation. I still don’t believe in God but I feel better.”

 

“Confession is good for the soul,” Emily murmured with a small smirk on her face.

 

“So I’ve heard,” Spencer answered with a smile. “I’m going to change my shirt.”

 

“That can wait, Dr. Reid,” Strauss’ shrill voice called out from the walkway above the bullpen. “I need the whole team in the conference room now.” Spencer looked down and his creased shirt and tie in dismay.

 

“Don’t sweat it, Reid.” Emily reassured him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Honestly, your shirt is nothing compared to the state of your hair.” And off she flounced with a grin.

 

Spencer frantically looked around for a mirror, combing his fingers through his hair but there wasn’t a single reflective surface to be found.  

 

“Dr. Reid!” Strauss bellowed from out the conference room door, making both Spencer and Anderson jump. “Now!” Giving up his entire appearance as a lost cause, Spencer hurried up the steps and into the conference room where JJ, Emily, Elle, Derek, and Garcia were already gathered. JJ gave him a questioning look as he settled next to her but he waved her off as Strauss closed the door sharply and made her way to the front of the room.

 

“As you know, your team is currently a man down and seriously lacking in a senior agent. Although you all proved yourselves capable on your last case,” Strauss grudging complement did nothing to dissuade Spencer from commenting that Strauss had not proved herself capable and, please God, let her not be joining their team on a permanent basis, “you need the direction of someone with considerable experience. Therefore, we are extremely lucky that Max Ryan has agreed to come out of retirement and lead your team.” She paused and looked around the room, waiting for some sort of reaction.

 

Everyone looked at Morgan to provide some sort of comment on the team’s behalf. “Good,” was all he managed to come up with, accompanied with a lack lustre smile.

 

“Indeed,” Strauss continued unperturbed by their lack of enthusiasm. “Well, Agent Ryan has a few loose ends to clear up and will be joining you at the end of next week. If there is a pressing case, he had agreed to come in earlier.” With that she strode from the room and didn’t look back.

 

“Well, it could be worse,” Elle sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I mean he was a bit of a dick on that case but at least it’s not her.”

 

JJ sighed her agreement before turning to Spencer. “So what’s up with the I-slept-in-these-clothes look, Spence?”

 

“Reid found religion,” Emily answered for him.

 

“And they told you to not change your clothes?” Garcia asked perplexedly, “If this is becoming a thing you are really going to start to smell.”

 

“Is it a cult?” Elle asked, leaning forward with interest and Spencer was unsure whether her question was serious or a joke.

 

“It’s Catholicism,” Emily deadpanned.

 

“So that’s a yes.” Elle replied and the two lapsed Catholics in the room shared a grin.

 

“I didn’t find religion. I didn’t join a cult. I’m not converting to Catholicism,” Spencer clarified as there was finally a pause in the conversation. “I just fell asleep in the confessional.”

 

“You went to confession?” Garcia asked excitedly. “What did you confess?”

 

“Isn’t the point of confession secrecy?”

 

“Yeah but I am your Tech goddess. Confess and I will 404 all your sins.”

 

“I don’t know what that means,” Spencer looked at Morgan who just shrugged. “And I’m still not telling you. In fact, I’m going to go change my shirt now.” Spencer stood abruptly, his locker key still clutched in his hand and left the room. He wasn’t a fool. He figured that they all knew about his brief flirtation with addiction since he definitely wasn’t that good of an actor and his long sleeved shirts covered the track marks but did nothing to hide his shaking hands. Emily definitely knew. She’d come the closest to calling him on it but none of them had ever actually approached him about it. He’d been left to struggle with it on his own. If he hadn’t been able to talk to Ethan, he would probably still be shooting up now or, you know, dead in a gutter. Ethan had come and stayed with him for that first weekend and then he stayed in near constant contact with his friend over the coming weeks until Spencer had found NA and John. If Ethan knew that Spencer kept his drug of choice in his flat, he would be on the next flight here to smash the bottles and probably berate Spencer for being so stupid but Ethan didn’t know. No one did.

 

Spencer had bought the dilaudid after Gideon had left when he’d been so tempted to turn back to his old comforts. He hadn’t. He’d called John. He’d gone to a meeting. He’d drunk too much coffee and read his way through an entire section of the library that weekend but he’d held onto the drugs. Just in case. Now meetings weren’t an option. Not that he’d ever felt particularly comfortable there.

 

Pulling a clean shirt out of his locker, he contemplated showering. It was probably a good idea and there was no one else around at the moment so he could take his time. Quickly he stripped out of his clothes, shaking his slacks out and hanging them over his locker door as he would have no choice but to put them back on. Slightly creased pants were better that the ones that had blood stains on the knees from where he’d wiped his hands after checking on the woman with the missing heart. Yeah, he would probably just throw those out.

 

Stepping under the warm spray, Spencer allowed the water to beat down on the tense muscles in his neck. No matter how soft the blanket, sleeping sitting up in what was ostensibly a small wooden cupboard had wreaked havoc on his back. As he massaged shampoo into his tangled hair, Emily must have been right about the state it had been in, he could feel himself thickening, lengthening until his dick was hard and demanding, nearly curled up against his stomach. Knowing that someone could walk in at any minute just made his erection twitch in interest. The forbidden had always excited him and he had no power to deny himself this more innocent pleasure. He poured soap into his cupped hand and rubbed it over his chest, paying special attention to his straining nipples that hardened further under the attention.

 

He slid a warm soapy hand down the plane of his stomach, his breath starting to come in short gasps as his heart beat rose. He imagined the sound of the door opening, Morgan calling his name as he fisted himself with a tightening hand, rolling his thumb over the slit. Even so his usual fantasy of one of his superiors walking in just wasn’t doing it for him so he let his eyes slide closed as his mind wandered. Running through last night events, he started thrusting his hips as a deep voice rumbled through his subconscious and then he was coming in hot, bursts as he imagined dark chocolate eyes boring into his soul. Fuck, he murmured to himself. He’d just jacked off to thoughts of a priest. If there was a hell, he was hurtling down the motorway towards it at 100 mph. He rinsed his hand clean, turned off the water and reached for his towel. His state of his eternal soul, if it existed, would be a consideration for another day.

 

“So are you going to mass on Sunday?” Morgan asked jokingly as the team packed up for the weekend. Spencer paused. He hadn’t really thought about whether or not he would go back to the church. He certainly wasn’t interested in religious service but he couldn’t deny that he felt more relaxed today than he had in a long time just because he finally had someone to talk to, someone who would listen. Not that Morgan would understand that. He worked out his frustrations with the job on the dancefloor, with a seemingly endless stream of beautiful women, and by knocking out walls to make open-plan kitchens.

 

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he answered honestly. Hoisting his go-bag that desperately needed re-packed.

 

“Want to come for a drink with us Saturday night?” Elle asked, as she did every week.

 

“No, thank you.” Spencer replied as Emily sing-songed along to his standard reply.

 

“Have a good weekend, Spence,” JJ called out as she left.

 

“You too. All of you.” Spencer decided to take the stairs on his way out, running down them like a little kid out of school. Everything was just feeling that little bit lighter today. He was looking forward to writing his letter to his mother tonight. Finally, he wouldn’t need to fake his positivity.

 

Sunday morning inexplicably found Spencer sitting in his Amazon on a now familiar street in Bellevue. He really hadn’t intended to come to mass. It just seemed that he was here and it was apparently the right time since a few stragglers were making their way towards the open door where the two priests stood shaking their hands and pausing to talk with the regulars. Spencer watched the way Father Hotchner would let the smallest smile grace his thin lips as he held the hand of each and every person who passed through his door. His eyes were soft and warm even from this distance, welcoming. The two men finally walked inside themselves and Spencer looked at his watch to see that it was now eleven o’clock. He could go now. He’d seen him. Not that seeing Father Hotchner was his reason for being here. He had no reason for being here. He could definitely go now.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Spencer was settling into a pew at the very back of the church as unobtrusively as possible. The lighting was still dim, the iron fixture still swaying slightly, but the altar was beautifully lit by the sunlight streaming through the stained glass window behind Father Hotchner and the other priest who was currently leading the homily which seemed to be centred on Matthew 13: But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly, I say to you, many prophets and righteous men longed to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it. Well, Spencer was hearing it but it wasn’t the right voice. Certainly, the other priest was a great speaker and he seemed to know his scripture but the voice was somewhat lacking. Too upstate New York. Not enough Southern charm. Spencer sighed heavily forgetting how small the church was and Father Hotchner looked up just as he slumped further down in the uncomfortable pew. Their eyes met and Father Hotchner offered him that same small smile that he gave to every person who walked through the door but his eyes were dancing with amusement. Spencer smiled back before the connection was broken and he let his eyes wander around the church taking in the gathered congregation. It was a sparse crowd, a mix of older parishioners following in the footsteps of the religion that they walked their entire lives and some young men and women looking lost and somewhat desperate. Spencer noticed the tight curls and sharp cheekbones of the young man he’d briefly met on his first visit to the church. He was sat near the front of the church staring raptly at the two priests moving in synchronized unison as the other priest spoke and Father Hotchner set up the wine and little wafers.

 

The other priest finished his homily and Spencer let the closing words wash over him as Father Hotchner stilled, his arms falling to his sides, the large goblet of wine centre stage on the table, with a small bowl of wafers next to it. The ritual ingestion of the body and the blood of Christ had always struck Spencer as somewhat macabre. A little too Dahmer for Spencer’s taste. When the congregation started moving towards the front of the church, Spencer stood again. Father Hotchner looked up again, catching his eye one last time and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. His white robes billowed slightly as he raised one hand in that same gesture of farewell. Spencer returned it, feeling warmed inside beyond all reason.

 

“So, did you go back to the church?” Emily asked with interest as she and Spencer got coffee at the shop across the street on Monday morning.

 

“I did,” Spencer replied, looking at her face for any sort of reaction. Emily remained frustratingly blank.

 

“Was it good?”

 

“It was relaxing.”

 

“Good,” Emily fiddled with the lid of her coffee, avoiding his eyes before continuing. “That’s good, Spencer. Look I know that things have been hard and that maybe you don’t feel you get enough support from us but we care for you. I care for you. You’re my friend.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer said slowly, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

 

“I mean it.”

 

“Um, thank you, I guess.”

 

Emily sighed heavily. “I know you don’t feel like part of the team sometimes and that you can’t talk to any of us about anything important but you can.”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Spencer I know what you went through –“

 

“Don’t Emily. Just don’t.”

 

“Okay, right. I guess, just as long as you’re talking to someone.”

 

In uncomfortable silence, they walked into the BAU and separated to their desks to deal with the never-ending reams of paperwork that greased the wheels of the FBI, or perhaps stuck in the spokes. They’d barely sat down at their desks before JJ bustled in with a case, calling them all into the conference room. Another case. This one in Portland. Max Ryan would meet them at the airstrip. Spencer sighed heavily as they all trailed out of the room and to the jet.

 

It was a gruelling couple of days chasing after a madman whose modus operandi changed like a chameleon to fit the fears of his victims and it ended with Spencer on a rooftop trying to talk him down. It was as futile as checking the pulse of a dead woman. “You can’t save them all and not everyone wants to be saved,” Ryan told him with a shrug, slapping Spencer on the back and missing the younger man’s discomfort at the unexpected physical contact as he walked away. The elation at the fact that they were able to save them last victim was overshadowed in Spencer’s mind by the image of Stanley Howard’s body hitting the pavement, his glasses shattering as his skull cracked open. Not feeling like celebrating the end of the case with the rest of the team, Spencer retreated to a corner of the jet with his book open on his lap. Ryan was regaling the team with tales of his younger days. Tales of Gideon that made Spencer’s gut twist. He tuned them out and stared unseeingly out of the window at the darkling sky. “And we are here as on a darkling plain/ Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,/ Where ignorant armies clash by night,” Spencer mumbled to himself. JJ looked over at him questioningly and he forced a smile. Emily had said that he could talk to them but they wouldn’t want to hear about how he still longed for the oblivion that came at the end of a needle, especially not JJ who blamed herself for what happened at that blood-soaked farm in Georgia. The Sea of Faith, Spencer recited in his head, taking comfort in despairing words from a century ago, Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore/ Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled./ But now I only hear/ Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar. Perhaps Arnold was right, perhaps there could be an answer in a resurrection of faith.

 

Spencer alighted from the plane, waving goodbye to the rest of the team before stepping into his car and driving straight to Bellevue. It was the middle of the night but he hoped that late night confession was a speciality of Father Hotchner. This time when he walked through the door, the priest was right there, tending to the candles in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary.

 

“Hello,” he greeted Spencer with a warm smile.

 

“Um, hello.”

 

“Have you come for a formal confession?” Hotch asked. He was dressed more simply this evening, as he had been when Spencer had glimpsed him that morning. He black slacks were neatly pressed into perfect creases even though it was after eleven at night. The polish on his shoes shone in the candlelight and again, when he crossed his arm, his biceps pulled the material of his black shirt into tight bands emphasising his strength.

 

“Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword,” Spencer mumbled. Hotch raised an eyebrow but before he could comment Spencer continued. “Is there such a thing as informal confession?”

 

Hotch smiled, “I believe it’s called having a chat. I could make coffee or tea.” The idea of sitting down across from the beautiful man and simply talking seemed absolutely terrifying to Spencer and his mouth just flapped open uselessly. “If you prefer, we can sit in the confessional.”

 

“Yes, please.” The priest nodded and turned sharply on his heel, leading the way down the aisle to the confessional booth where he slipped inside without further comment.

 

Spencer followed into his side and watched the priest settle behind the grill. Again he was struck by the sharpness of Hotch’s profile, his features had been sharpened like blade, like a sword of God.

 

The silence stretched between them, but not uncomfortably which was a novel sensation for Spencer, still he didn’t want to waste the man’s time so he should probably begin. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been 8 days, 22 hours, 26 minutes since my last confession.”

 

“Well, that’s the most precise evaluation of time I’ve ever had before a confession.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. I see you’re going for the more classical approach this time.”

 

“I thought I’d give it a go.” Spencer paused before groaning in frustration and shaking his head. “I have no idea why.”

 

“What’s on your mind, son?” Spencer saw the priest incline his head slightly towards the grating and he imagined those warm, brown eyes looking at him. He shivered.

 

“My name’s Spencer. The son thing is a bit weird. You’re really not old enough to be my father.”

 

The priest chuckled again and Spencer decided that the man’s laugh was possibly one of the most wonderful things he’d ever heard. And then the man said his name and blew that experience right out of the water. “Spencer,” he said in a soft, low tone, the sibilance making it close to an intimate whisper, “what did you come to confess?”

 

“What do people usually confess?”

 

“Well, a whole range of things from criminal activities and infidelity to minor indiscretions and impure thoughts.”

 

Spencer remembered his shower activities from last week and how the priest’s voice and eyes seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his masturbatory fantasies. He should probably confess to that but that would possibly be the most awkward thing he’d ever done in his life. Which was saying a lot since and he’d done many awkward things. “I just got back from another case. A man was killing people by manipulating their worst fears. He’s dead.”

 

“Manipulating their fears?”

 

“Burying them alive. Drowning them. You know, classic phobias. Mine would be the dark. I hate the dark.” Spencer wasn’t sure why he imparted that piece of information.

 

“That’s a very logical fear in evolutionary terms,” Father Hotchner offered.

 

“I thought you didn’t believe in evolution? Didn’t God make man, and the platypus, and the amoeba?”

 

“Not in that order and I think the platypus might have been an accident.” Spencer chuckled at the light tone of the priest’s joke.

 

“I guess even God has his off-days.”

 

“We all do. So what bothered you about this case?”

 

“All the cases bother me. There’s always death. We’re not called in until people have died and generally more die after we get the call. Often the unsub, sorry killer, dies and we’re meant to consider that a win. It doesn’t feel much like a win.”

 

“No, I suppose not.”

 

“He committed suicide. Jumped off a roof. I tried to talk him down but he wouldn’t listen. I wanted to save his life even after all that he had done. I guess that’s crazy.”

 

“It sounds very noble to me. Your desire to save everyone shows great goodness in you, Spencer. Although I imagine that attitude may make you somewhat reckless.”

 

Spencer shrugged and changed the subject. “Why weren’t you giving the homily last Sunday?”

 

“Father Rossi and I alternate. I was pleased to see you attending.”

 

“I was curious.”

 

“About what?”

 

“I wanted to hear you speak,” Spencer murmured. “You have a very soothing voice.”

 

“Thank you,” Father Hotchner’s voice sounded slightly choked in that moment. “If you come back this Sunday, I’ll be speaking.”

 

“What are you planning to give the homily on?”

 

“Well, as we get close to the end of the year I like to start focusing on Revelations.”

 

“Exciting and bloody.”

 

“It’s more than that but yes, it does draw in the younger crowd.”

 

“So what verses?”

 

“Revelations 6 ‘and I heard as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, Come and see. And I saw, and behold a white horse.’”

 

“That’s the King James Version,” Spencer complained with a frown. “You’re Catholic. All your other quotes have come from the New Revised Standard Version.”

 

“Impressive. I’m also a Johnny Cash fan.”

 

“Who?”

 

Hotch threw back his head and laughed heartily. “You can tell me which version a quote from the bible is from but you don’t know Johnny Cash?”

 

“I’m not very good at popular culture.”

 

“He was a country singer. You should give him a go. Though in your line of work you might object to some of his more homicidal lyrics. I suppose I should do though he was a devout man. What sort of music do you like?”

 

“Um, Beethoven? Less open to abuse by psychotic killers.”

 

“I take it that you haven’t read _A Clockwork Orange_ , or seen the film.”

 

“If I do, will it ruin Beethoven for me?”

 

“Well, I didn’t let Manson ruin the _White Album_ for me.”

 

“That’s the Beatles, right?”

 

“Yes, your questioning tone worries me. Usually I’m concerned by my congregants’ religious education but I feel your musical education will need to be my focus.”

 

Spencer shivered at the thought of being the focus on Father Hotchner’s attention in any form and didn’t even think to question why the priest was taking such an interest in him. No one had ever wanted to teach him anything that wouldn’t benefit them in some way, from his professors to Gideon they’d all wanted to mould him into their ideal. It seemed that Father Hotchner just wanted to teach Spencer about music for the joy of sharing it. “That’s sounds nice,” he finally managed to choke out.

 

“Do you need somewhere to sleep tonight?” Hotch asked softly. “I have a cot in the vestry that will be far more comfy than the floor in here.”

 

“No, I drove here. I’ll go home tonight.”

 

“And you’ll be okay?” Hotch continued, “You won’t be tempted?”

 

Spencer realised that he hadn’t thought about drugs even once during this entire conversation. He wasn’t quite ready to throw out what he had but the thought did flit across his mind for the first time. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As stated I am using the New Standard Revised Version for my bible quotes and the source will usually appear.
> 
> I'm not Catholic so I may get some things wrong. I think the later sleeping with a member of the congregation will be definitely frowned upon but I'm trying to get the little things right. 
> 
> The Johnny Cash song referred to is "When the Man Comes Around".


	3. Secrets

Spencer shifted on the wooden bench, pulling his legs up to his chin and wrapping his arms around them. Even in the dim light of the confessional, he could see that Father Hotchner was turned towards him and he felt the imagined heat of those intense eyes boring into him. “I’m not sure I want to answer that question.” This may have been the fifth time that he’d been to see the priest but he wasn’t quite ready to talk about the start of his addiction. Even at NA he had never discussed that with the group.

 

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might help.”

 

“It probably would,” Spencer admitted, chewing nervously on his lower lip, “but I still don’t think I’m ready to answer.”

 

“Alright,” Spencer waited for the priest to press the issue but the now familiar comfortable silence fell over them.

 

Spencer tugged on the laces of his Converse, waiting. Finally, he sighed heavily, “Your silence is very provoking.”

 

“I didn’t say anything,” Hotch protested with a laugh.

 

“Exactly. You should have been an interrogator. You’re out of your time. You could have been magnificent in the Spanish Inquisition.”

 

“Thanks,” Hotch replied wryly. “You know that wasn’t exactly one of the proudest moments of my profession’s history.”

 

“Well then, you should be working with me.”

 

“Tell me more about your job.”

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“Anything. All I have is what I’ve surmised.”

 

“Is this a usual part of confession?”

 

“Spencer,” Spencer felt his cheeks colouring at the warm tone, “none of your confessions have been ordinary.”

 

“Oh well, um, I work for the FBI. Specifically, for the BAU. It’s the Behavioural Analysis Unit. We are called in to profile extreme cases like serial murders, arsonists, serial rapists, child abductions.”

 

“The worst of the worst.”

 

“Pretty much. We analyse the evidence and then we provide a profile of the offender.”

 

“How accurate are the profiles?”

 

“You’d be surprised. We’re good at what we do.”

 

“You’re proud of your team.”

 

It wasn’t a question but Spencer answered anyway. “I am. I don’t always feel like I fit with them but, yes, I’m proud of them and proud to be a part of it.”

 

“Why don’t you feel like you fit?”

 

Spencer huffed out a self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve never fit anywhere, Hotch. I was a twelve year old child prodigy in the graduating class of a Las Vegas public high school. I’d finished my first PhD before most people can drive. I was groomed for joining the FBI and resented by most of the candidates at the Academy because of it. I didn’t exactly have many friends growing up. I guess my social skills somewhat suffered.”

 

“You don’t have any trouble conversing with me,” Hotch murmured softly, Spencer saw him leaning in towards the grill.

 

“In the dark, behind a wooden partition. That’s not normal.”

 

Hotch conceded this with a laugh but quickly turned serious. “You can’t have had an easy childhood.”

 

“I take it back. You should have been a psychologist.”

 

“If I was, I would make a note about avoidance here.”

 

Spencer smiled in the dark. “No. I didn’t have a great childhood. That is something most of the team has in common.”

 

“Maybe I would fit in well with your team,” the priest replied softly.

 

“Is that why you joined the priesthood?”

 

“Am I allowed to plead the fifth here?”

 

“If I was your lawyer, I would certainly tell you to say nothing until you had legal representation present.”

 

Spencer could hear Hotch’s smile in his voice. “Isn’t it the guilty ones who keep quiet?”

 

“Maybe in your line of work. In mine, it’s the smart ones.” Spencer paused and amended, “Often the smart ones are also guilty.”

 

“I joined the priesthood because it offered me a chance for escape and because it defied all expectations that my parents had. I was supposed to follow in my father’s footsteps and become a lawyer, to take over the family firm.” Hotch’s voice got gradually tighter as he talked about his father and Spencer could guess at what was coming next. “My father was an alcoholic and an extremely cruel man whether drunk or sober. I was – I was his favourite target.”

 

“And the authorities did nothing?” Spencer’s voice had hardened at the thought of any child being subjected to such violence in his home. No, Spencer’s mother hadn’t always been the most effective mother. No, she hadn’t always been able to take care of him but she had always loved him. Even when she was neck deep in a delusion, gasping for a breath of reality, she had recognised her son and loved him. Even when Spencer was holding her as she screamed about the agents listening through the light switches, Spencer had felt safe with her. Every child deserves to feel safe in their own home.

 

“My father was an important man. A pillar of society. I was just a clumsy child.”

 

“And your mother?”

 

“Cared more about appearances. She helped apply make-up when my father was too free with his fists.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Hotch.”

 

“It was a long time ago. I have forgiven them.”

 

Spencer snorted in derision. “Turn the other cheek? Really?”

 

“I have forgiven them,” Hotch repeated firmly.

 

“I’m not saying you haven’t. It’s just –“ Spencer’s phone rang loudly, echoing in the small booth. “Hang on, that’s JJ. Hi Jayje, case? Right. Okay. Yes. I’ll come in now.”

 

“Where are you off to now?” Hotch asked as he stood. Spencer followed suit and stepped out of the confessional, turning to see the priest brushing dirt from his pristine slacks. His eyes looked slightly red, shaken by the conversation they had been having and Spencer longed for the words to make Hotch feel better. For a man who had memorised dictionaries, it was amazing how he sometimes had so little of worth to say.

 

“Denver.”

 

Hotch reached out laying a warm palm on Spencer’s shoulder and gripping tight. Spencer noticed that they were about equal in height. Standing closer than they ever had before, he could see the lines etched between Hotch’s eyebrows as he frowned earnestly. “Stay safe, Spencer.”

 

A warmth blossomed in Spencer’s chest. Someone was worrying about him when he went away and it felt wonderful. Hesitating, he reached up and covered Hotch’s hand with his own. The priest’s eyebrows rose marginally in surprise. “I will.” Before he could do anything stupid, Spencer spun on his heel and marched out the church to his car. Forcing Hotch to the back of his mind, he began to think about statistics related to family annihilators but the whirling facts in his mind were suddenly interrupted by a shout of his name. He turned to see Hotch standing at the door of the church looking somewhat uncertain.

 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asked, walking quickly back to the priest, his heart beating irrationally fast in his chest.

 

“Yes, of course. I just, uh, I thought that I could maybe give you my number? You know just in case it’s a bad case and you need to talk to someone.”

 

Spencer’s stomach did an odd little flip that should have been anatomically impossible but that knowledge didn’t stop the smile that curved his lips. “Yes. I’d like that.”

 

“Should I put it in your phone?”

 

“Yes, um, good. Here.” Spencer held out his phone to the priest who quickly entered his digits before handing it back with a smile. He had dimples, Spencer realized breathlessly.

 

“Bye, Spencer.”

 

Spencer nodded his head and slipped into his car, waving out the window as he drove past the priest who was still standing at the door.

 

While in the throes of the case, Spencer forgot all about the number newly programmed into his phone but when it was all over, he found that the knowledge thundered back into his mind and hit him like a punch to the solar plexus. He wasn’t going to do anything about it, but the team were staying for one more night while Morgan bullied social services into finding a good home for Tyler, the kid who had almost been manipulated into becoming a killer. He was laying back on his hotel bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to decide whether the water stain looked more like a hare or a rabbit when all of a sudden his phone was in his hands and he was dialling Aaron Hotchner. He just stared at the screen for several moments of blind panic before a faraway voice said something. Quickly he brought the phone to his ear in time to heat another groggy sounding “Hello? Sean?”

 

“Hi, um, Hotch. It’s me. Spencer?”

 

“Hi, Spencer.” The priest’s voice sounded relieved if somewhat still sleepy. Sleep apparently had the effect of dropping Hotch’s already gravelly voice another half octave and Spencer swallowed heavily.

 

“I’m sorry. I must have woken you. I didn’t realise the time.”

 

“It’s okay.” Hotch was already sounding more awake. “Are you still in Denver?”

 

“Yeah, there’s a few loose ends to clear up.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I think so. I mean, we got them. They can’t hurt anyone else and that’s a good thing. There was this thing with a kid at the end but again no one was hurt so we’re calling it a win.”

 

“You don’t sound very sure.” Spencer heard the rustle of bed clothes on the other end of the line and forced himself to focus on his feelings about the case and nothing else.

 

“You know, I didn’t join the FBI for it but there’s a real rush of adrenaline while solving a case. Even the tedious moments of flipping through paperwork have an urgency to them because you know lives are on the line. It’s only logical that there would be a crash at the end of that. Are you sure you don’t want to go back to sleep?”

 

“I’m awake, Spencer. Talk to me. Start from the beginning.”

 

“Um, we were called in on a family annihilator case. We quickly established it was a team. One dominant. One submissive. They started simply robbing family homes. They were smart. Cell jammers. Cutting the power. They planned. Anyway, then they graduated to murder. One would bludgeon the parents to death while the other would inject the children with a drug, essentially euthanizing them.”

 

“Why did they suddenly start killing?” Hotch asked and Spencer could picture the earnest look that would be on his face.

 

“The trigger was –“ Spencer paused, suddenly remembering the conversation they had been having before he’d been called away. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to call Hotch. On the other hand, he felt guilty that the other man had been opening up to him about something so deeply personal and he had run away. This could give him an opening to finish that conversation better. He just wished he’d planned something to say. “The trigger was child abuse. The first child murdered had bruises on her body. Old bruises. It seems that her father was beating her.”

 

“Oh,” Hotch answered with a sharp intake of breath. “So, they punished the father and put the girl out of her misery.”

 

“Essentially, yes.”

 

“But why keep killing?”

 

“Well, they figured that all parents would be abusive eventually. It was the only thing they know.”

 

“It makes sense.”

 

“Does it?”

 

“It does to me,” Hotch whispered softly. “You asked why I joined the priesthood? Well, there were many reasons but one of them was that it was safe. If I never had children, I would never turn into my father.”

 

“You would never hurt a child, Aaron.”

 

“Perhaps not but I feared it. You called me Aaron.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine. You said there was something with a kid at the end?”

 

“Oh yes, um, the pair had met each other in foster care. The dominant one tracked down the current foster kids of the abusive family and gave the boy a gun. He was supposed to use it to kill the foster mother.”

 

“But he didn’t?”

 

“No. He was a good kid. We’re staying here to try and find him somewhere safe to live. Morgan’s really bonded with him.”

 

“Sounds like your team did a lot of good there.”

 

“We’re always too late. I mean, it’s the nature of the job, of law enforcement. We’re only called in after something has happened.”

 

“Well, yes. Otherwise _Minority Report_ would be a documentary.”

 

“I don’t get that reference.”

 

“We’re adding a list of films to your musical education. Not that Tom Cruise films should be recommended viewing.”

 

“I like films,” Spencer groused. “I go to the cinema a lot.”

 

“Really?” Hotch sounded very interested suddenly. “What’s your favourite film?”

 

“Um, probably _A New Hope_. I love horror movies too.”

 

“Don’t you see enough of that at work?”

 

“What, Hotch, don’t you like _The Exorcist_?”

 

“Sure, but it’s just like another day at the office for me,” Hotch deadpanned. “I guess you feel the same way about _Silence of the Lambs_.”

 

“Sure. I’ve been kidnapped enough times for that to be about right.”

 

“You’re not serious?” Hotch asked, his voice suddenly grave.

 

“Well,” Spencer coughed awkwardly, “it’s not on a daily basis but my track record isn’t all that good.”

 

“Jesus, Spencer.”

 

“Did you just blaspheme?” Spencer couldn’t hold back the startled laugh. “You’re a priest and you just took the lord’s name in vain.”

 

“I’ll say my Hail Mary’s once I’m off the phone.”

 

“Are you always this much of a heretic when you’re woken in the middle of the night?”

 

Hotch chuckled. “I don’t know. I must admit that you’re turning my world on its head.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m not.” That familiar silence settled over them again and Spencer listened to the rustle of bedclothes, imagining Hotch rolling over. He realised that he was picturing Hotch lying in bed in his starched collar and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask what the other man was wearing before he realised how inappropriate that question was. His reverie was interrupted by Hotch’s voice again. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

 

“Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Come and see me when you get back.”

 

“Okay. Night, Hotch. You know you’re a wonderful man and your father was a dick.”

 

Hotch chuckled. “Thanks. Night, Spencer.” Long after Hotch had hung up, Spencer lay staring unseeingly at the ceiling running over how stupid his comment was and wondering what exactly he was doing with Father Aaron Hotchner.

 

“Kid, did you sleep at all last night?” Morgan asked as he stretched out in the seat next to Spencer.

 

“Um, yeah? Maybe?” Spencer answered absently, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

 

“Tyler’s been put in another foster home. I got my Baby Girl to run some extra checks. They seem like good people.”

 

Spencer smiled at his friend, “That’s great. He’s a good kid.”

 

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, just wish we could have done the same for the rest of those kids. I’ll keep the pressure up on the authorities and get them to get their fingers out of their asses.”

 

“With all that we see, you still believe that there are good parents out there, right?”

 

“Of course, kid. My Momma’s one of the best. My Dad was too.”

 

“Yeah, I know but—“ Spencer trailed off, waving a hand around.

 

“I know, kid. Makes you scared to be a father, right?”

 

“Well, I never wanted to be a father and it’s not likely, anyway.”

 

“Oh, right.” Morgan looked slightly surprised. “That’s cool.”

 

“I’m glad we’re not stuck in the 1950s and that my sexual orientation is considered cool,” Spencer mumbled, hiding his discomfort. He hadn’t exactly meant to out himself to Morgan. He’d been referring to his mother’s schizophrenia and then the sentence had just somehow continued.

 

Morgan’s hand was warm of his shoulder and it reminded Spencer of Aaron. He shrugged uncomfortably but Morgan didn’t let go until Spencer looked at him. “It’s cool, kid.”

 

Spencer nodded sharply. “I think I’ll try and sleep, now.”

 

“You do that.” Morgan moved over the aisle to give Spencer room to stretch out and pulled out his MP3 player. Spencer fell asleep to the muffled sound of a thumping bassline. He was awoken by the jet landing back in Virginia. Around him, the team was gathering their things and mumbling about paperwork that could wait until tomorrow. Everyone was eager to disembark and get home despite the extra night in the hotel. Spencer personally planned on going into the office to plough through his reports and then drive out to Bellevue to see Hotch. With this in mind, he strode across the tarmac in the direction of the SUVs that were waiting for them. He vaguely registered, a phone ringing and Max Ryan stopping to answer.

 

“Sorry, guys,” Ryan shouted across the tarmac, pulling a groan from the exasperated team, “no one’s going home yet. We’ve got a missing kid at a shopping mall in Potomac Mills.”

 

“The same mall as last week?” Prentiss asked as the team piled into two SUVs. Spencer riding with Ryan and Prentiss while Elle, Morgan and JJ took the other one.

 

“The same mall,” Ryan confirmed gravely. “The clock’s ticking on this one.”

 

For reasons not entirely known even to himself, Spencer pulled out his phone and sent a text to Hotch: Back in Virginia but I’ve been called in on another case. He couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips when he received the two word reply: Stay safe. He also missed the considering look that Emily gave him as she glanced back from the passenger seat. By the time they reached the mall, they were already close to the one hour window in which the previous missing girl had been killed. They hit the ground running interviewing the family: mother, father, brother, aunt, uncle. Spencer found that, bizarrely, the boy seemed most able to connect with him. Something was off about them but seeing a family in a time of crisis was never seeing them at their best. It was Emily who solved it and everything dissolved into a grimy mess of sick family secrets. They saved the girl, found her just in time but the case left Spencer feeling filthy and nauseous. As soon as he got in his car, he headed straight for the church, for sanctuary.

 

Hotch was standing in the middle of the church, sweeping the stone floors when Spencer walked in. It was a chilly night and he was wearing a soft looking sweater over his usual shirt, the bright white of his collar poking out from the zippered neck. When he looked up, he saw Spencer and a broad smile split across his face but it fell when he took in how broken Spencer must have looked.

 

“Bad case?” Hotch asked, stowing the broom in the cupboard near the altar.

 

“They’re all bad,” Spencer groaned. “But sometimes the depths of humanity’s evil continues to astonish me.” Spencer sagged onto one of the pews, Hotch leaning next to him. “You know, so often I can empathize with them. I can find some kind of redeeming feature. I can at least sort of understand what motivated them. This woman was utterly irredeemable. She left me feeling physically sick.”

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

“Please.” Hotch started moving towards the confessional and then stopped, turning back to Spencer. “Would you like to maybe sit in the back with me? I have a small, sitting area. It’s nothing much but it’s more comfortable than the confessional and you look exhausted.”

 

Spencer hesitated for a moment before nodding. He really was exhausted after two cases in a row. He followed Hotch back through the small door where he’d seen him talking to the other priest who he now knew was Father Rossi. The room was indeed small and sparsely furnished. There was a kitchenette running along one wall with a small fridge and a kettle. The white vinyl on the corner cupboard was peeling, exposing an avocado green beneath but the counter and backsplash were scrubbed beautifully clean. There was a two seater sofa pushed against the other wall with a small armchair opposite. Between them there was a wooden end table with a lamp. A book was perched on the arm of the chair and Spencer glanced at the title _The End of my Tether._ It seemed apt. Hotch gestured to the sofa, asking Spencer to sit. Along the back was the blue blanket that Hotch had wrapped around Spencer when he’d fallen asleep in the confessional that first night.

 

“Can I get you something to drink? There’s coffee, tea, whiskey.”

 

“Whiskey,” Spencer answered quickly. Hotch raised an eyebrow and Spencer huffed in exasperation. “It’s not my vice of choice, Hotch.”

 

Hotch smiled wryly. “It would be mine.” Still, he poured them two healthy glasses and settled into the seat opposite. “So what happened?”

 

Spencer took a long sip, enjoying the way it burned on the way down. “How was your day?” he asked instead, enjoying the flicker of surprise on Hotch’s face that was followed by a small smile.

 

“Good. I led mass in the morning. It’s quiet during the week, not that it’s exactly packed on Sunday either. Then in the afternoon, I ran the soup kitchen a couple of blocks over. Uneventful, I guess.”

 

Hotch didn’t ask again but the look he gave Spencer said everything. Spencer sighed. “Child abduction.”

 

“I heard about it on the news.”

 

“Yeah, it’s always bad when there’s a kid involved. Abductions have the added difficulty of a ticking clock. You know almost 50% of abducted children are dead in the first hour. It rises to over 70% by the fourth hour. Sometimes, I hate knowing the statistics.”

 

“But the girl’s fine, right? That’s what I heard.”

 

“Yeah, she’s alive. I don’t know if she’s fine. You know 75% of child abductions are committed by a family member.”

 

“It was one of her family?” Hotch’s brow furrowed and his fist clenched where it rested on his knee.

 

“Her Aunt.”

 

“Why? Why would she do that?”

 

Spencer choked back a sob, rubbing his hand over his face. “She thought her niece, Katie, was breaking up her marriage. Her husband was a paedophile. He’d been abusing his niece. The wife thought that if she could just get rid of the girl then her husband would be cured and her marriage would be saved.”

 

“That’s – that’s horrific. How can you do this day in day out?”

 

Spencer shrugged. “It’s my job. I want to make a difference, help people, you know.”

 

“I didn’t mean that like it sounded. You do. Beyond my comprehension, you do so much good.”

 

“Thank you. Sometimes it just doesn’t seem enough.”

 

“Do you want a bible quote about evil?”

 

Spencer quirked a wry smile. “I know them all. I can’t say that they have ever helped.”

 

“No. How about this one then: ‘Fairy tales do not tell children that dragons exist. Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children that dragons can be killed.’ Spencer the dragon-slayer.”

 

Spencer looked into his whiskey glass, swirling the amber liquid around and letting the words spin around in his head. The words didn’t really help but Hotch’s calm presence did. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the warmth of the room, the comfy sofa beneath him, the hum of the refrigerator. He peered through the door into the other room and caught a glimpse of a bed with starched, white sheets. The bed where Hotch slept at night. Hotch poured each of them another measure as they sat in silence.

 

Finally Spencer cleared his throat, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Can I answer your question now?” Spencer asked quietly, he reached behind him and pulled Hotch’s blanket around his shoulders, clinging to it like a security blanket.

 

To his credit, Hotch showed no confusion on his face. “Of course. I’m listening.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands. Those too earnest eyes seemed to see straight into Spencer’s soul so he averted his gaze and toyed with a loose thread. He’d never told this story in its entirety to anyone, not even to Morgan when he took his statement. Spencer knew that his omission was a breach of protocol but he would have lost his job or at least been suspended if he had gone on the record about Tobias’ attempts to help. He would have gone to jail if they’d known he’d stolen drugs from the corpse of his abuser.

 

It took Spencer a long time before he was able to begin, his voice cracking with nerves. “I was sent, with one other teammate, JJ, to take a witness statement from a man called Tobias Hankel. Gideon, our team leader, thought that Hankel had maybe seen more than he had revealed to the police. He wanted us to do a cognitive interview. That’s when you lead a victim through their memories to try and see if they remember a new detail, you know something they might have dismissed as inconsequential or not ever realised that they saw. The technique was developed by Fisher and Geiselman as an attempt combat the unreliability of witnesses. The interviewer asks them questions about the weather, sounds, feelings in an attempt to return them to the frame of mind they had the day in question.” Hotch allowed Spencer his divergence, simply nodding along to what he was saying. “Anyway, we were sent to Hankel’s farm but he – he wasn’t a witness. He was the unsub. Um, that’s unknown subject. The perpetrator. There was no way of knowing at that point in time. He was incredibly intelligent and extremely mentally disturbed. So it was just JJ and me. We separated to cover more ground. I was in the corn field when he struck me on the back of the head. When I woke up, I was cuffed to a chair in a shack.” Spencer swallowed heavily, rubbing at his wrists which ached with the phantom pain of the welts from the cuffs. Hotch leaned further forward and gently touched his fingertips to the back of Spencer’s hand. Spencer grasped the offered hand without thought, gripping Hotch tight. “Tobias had multiple personality disorder. The death of his abusive father was so traumatic that he absorbed his father’s identity and it formed a separate character in his mind. His father was extremely religious and believed that sinners should be punished. This punishment was enacted by Tobias’ third personality, the archangel Raphael.” Spencer stuttered to a halt, breathing starting to come slightly too fast.

 

“How long were you held for?” Hotch asked, his voice soft.

 

“Three days. Three days. Charles the father would torture me. He wanted me to confess my sins.” Spencer choked out a strangled laugh. “The first night I came here, you asked if I was here for confession and all I could hear was his voice in my head.”

 

“Why on earth did you come to confession?” Hotch asked, looking horrified at the comparison to Spencer’s tormentor.

 

“I thought it might help and it did. You help, Hotch.”

 

“Thank you. Do you want to go on?”

 

“Might as well. You know, I’ve started so I’ll finish. Um, so that was Charles. Raphael was impassive. He was the one to dole out the justice. He appeared relatively infrequently. Mostly when Tobias would leave to kill. He had these TV screens arrayed around the room that were hooked into people’s webcams. He’d watch them and choose anyone who was sinning. He wanted me to choose who would die. I – I couldn’t. So I chose someone to live and he – he killed one of the others.” Spencer choked on his guilt.

 

“That is not your fault, Spencer. He would have killed someone no matter what you said.”

 

“I know. I know. He wanted me to choose one of my team to die.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I said I chose my mentor, Gideon. I wanted to send him a message. I told him: ‘He’s a classic narcissist, thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4 ‘Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness and futility for these shall be his recompense.’”

 

Hotch’s brow furrowed in confusion. “That’s not Genesis 23:4. That’s from Job. Genesis 23:4 is: ‘I am a stranger and an alien residing among you; give me property among you for a burying place, so that I may bury my dead out of my sight’. You wouldn’t make that mistake.”

 

“No,” Spencer said sadly.

 

“You were trying to tell them where you were. You were in a graveyard.”

 

“Yes,” Spencer’s grip tightened even further as he finally raised his eyes to meet Hotch’s, feeling all his anger at his team burning in them. “I wish you’d been there. You would have understood.”

 

“They didn’t get your hint,” Hotch said sadly. “What happened?”

 

“Tobias, well Charles, led me into the woods to dig my grave. I tried to dig into the cold ground but it was so hard and I was so weak. He got frustrated with me and snatched the shovel from me. I managed to grab his gun while he was distracted and I – I shot him. I killed him.” Hotch moved next to Spencer on the sofa, allowing the younger man to lean into him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders in a loose embrace. “I had to walk for miles through the woods until I reached a road. Finally, someone passed and they took me back to my team at the station.”

 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. I haven’t told you what I did.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I do. I’ve never told anyone. You have to understand: Tobias was just a kid. He was this kid who’d had a really terrible life at the hands of a horrible father. He wasn’t a bad person. He was as much a victim as all the people he killed.”

 

“Okay,” Hotch said slowly, not sounding entirely convinced.

 

“He used dilaudid as a coping mechanism. It probably didn’t help with his underlying mental health issues but it offered him an escape. He offered me that same escape. At first I fought him. I told him no but I was tied up. He injected me and, God, Hotch it was amazing. For once my mind was quiet. I lost myself in memories but nothing hurt. It was like watching a movie. It didn’t really touch me. By the end of the third day I was begging him for it.”

 

“That’s understandable, Spencer.”

 

“No. No. No. What I did was inexcusable. After I shot him. I – oh shit – I took the remaining vials from his pocket. I stole drugs from a corpse. How fucking low can a person get?”

 

“Spencer,” Hotch murmured as the younger man buried his face in his hands.

 

“People do horrible things to each other, Aaron. All the time.”

 

“I know.” Hotch stroked a hand through Spencer’s hair as the young man slumped on his shoulder.

 

“Oblivion seems so much easier.”

 

“It’s not meant to be easy, Spence.” Spencer looked up at the nickname, suddenly realizing how close he was to the other man.

 

“Only JJ has ever called me Spence.”

 

“Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It won’t happen again.” Hotch stopped as Spencer just continued to stare at him.

 

“I called you Aaron again.”

 

“Did you? I didn’t notice.”

 

They were so close, their bodies warm against each other, crammed into the little sofa. Spencer could lean forward just one inch and press his lips to Aaron’s. Aaron shifted and a flicker of white caught Spencer’s attention. Aaron’s collar. Aaron’s vows. Spencer couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. This was a good man here in front of him. A man who had devoted himself to his beliefs. He didn’t deserve some cheap attempt at seduction just because Spencer found him sexually attractive. Though, if he was honest with himself, the sexual attraction could be dismissed. The real problem was that Spencer liked Hotch as a person, as a friend. Was Hotch even attracted to him? Homosexuality was a sin according to his belief system. Would be hate Spencer if he found out he was gay? Hotch smiled back at him, his arm still heavy around Spencer’s shoulders, seemingly unaware of Spencer’s crisis.

 

“I’m gay,” Spencer blurted out suddenly and felt himself instantly flush bright red.

 

“Okay,” Hotch said slowly but he was also blushing.

 

“I thought you should know. I mean I know that Catholicism isn’t so keen on sodomy.”

 

“That’s one way to put it,” Hotch still looked a little bewildered but then his eyes widened and he looked at Spencer in shock. “Oh! You’re attracted to me.” The words were stated with such utter confusion that Spencer felt his stomach settle somewhere around his feet. It wasn’t hard to imagine the disgust that would follow.

 

“Yes,” Spencer said miserably, getting to his feet, leaving the blanket in a pile on the sofa. “I’m sorry, Hotch, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Wait, Spencer. Please. Don’t go.” But Spencer was already walking to the door. Hotch stayed frozen on the sofa despite his frantic words.

 

“I just want you to know that I never would have acted on it. It just felt disingenuous to keep it from you.” Hotch stood, finally, looking like he was going to reach out to Spencer but the younger man backed away. “Just let me go, Hotch.” And with that he turned and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, since this is off the cuff I'd thought I'd make it an interactive adventure. Would you like me to switch to Hotch's POV in the next chapter or to keep it as only Spencer?


	4. Confidences

Aaron Hotchner had never considered himself a coward but he stood staring at the open doorway to the vestry for an interminably long time wanting to go after Spencer but simply being too scared to do so. Eventually, he turned and started his coffee maker. He certainly wasn’t going to sleep tonight. As he waited for the coffee to filter, he looked blankly around his living quarters. His apartment was modest to the point of being monastic. Aaron preferred to characterize it as living aesthetically. He could admire the Aesthetes and the Nazarites Though, he supposed they wouldn’t have enjoyed their whiskey nearly as much as he did. Certainly, it was fitting for a man of the cloth but he knew many priests who had far more worldly possessions. Ever since he had left the sprawling home of his parents, he had looked to pare his life down to the bare necessities. He knew that you cannot fit a camel through the eye of a needle but he wasn’t particularly worried about materialism leading him down the path to sin. He simply believed that if he could do without it then he might as well be without it. Plus, the thought of the drawers full of silver and the cupboards filled with crystal in his parent’s drawing room still made his stomach churn. The coffee announced that it was ready with a gentle gurgle and he poured it into a chipped mug that he had inherited with the rooms when he moved here from his previous post in Seattle.

 

Spencer’s words had unsettled him but not in the way that he suspected the young man thought they had. Aaron wasn’t disgusted by Spencer’s confession. Instead, he was horrified by how thrilled he was when he realized that the young man found him desirable. He wasn’t stupid or naïve when it came to sexual attraction even though his understanding of the actual mechanics were purely theoretical. He recognized when some of the young women in the congregation were flirting with him. They were, well, heavy-handed and it simply made him nervous and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, that seemed to encourage them. Apparently, he was adorable. That adjective made him cringe. However, it seemed that when he was attracted to someone, he was completely blind to their intentions. Not that Spencer had made it easy. Until last night, almost all their conversations had been conducted in the near darkness of the confessional which didn’t give much opportunity for reading body language or facial expressions. Aaron had always been good at gleaning the unsaid from the way someone held themselves or the way their facial muscles contracted in minute, unconscious ways. It was part of what made him a good listener; he heard the unsaid. It was part of what made him a good priest.

 

But despite his dedication to his vocation, from the moment he had seen Spencer, soaked to the bone and looking as miserable as a sodden cat, he had felt drawn towards him. He had looked beautiful, dripping wet puddles onto the stone floor, lit up by the soft glow of candlelight that somehow sharpened his features. His features belonged to the angels of the bible. Not the cherubim with their chubby curves but the archangels who wielded their blades with righteous fury. Of course, after talking to Spencer, after hearing how conflicted he was, how much he cared about every single person he met, Aaron had realised that beneath that exterior that looked carved from marble, there was a painfully sensitive soul. That realization had only deepened Aaron’s respect and admiration for the young man who kept returning to pour out his soul into the shadows of the confessional.

 

He had recognized his attraction on Spencer’s fourth visit. There hadn’t been a case. Spencer had come to simply talk. When he’d arrived, Aaron had been busy with another parishioner. A young woman who had lost a baby not long ago and was still struggling with her grief. After catching his eye, Spencer had motioned that he would return and had stepped out of the church. He’d returned fifteen minutes later with a coffee in each hand and had settled in the back of the church mostly out of sight. Once she’d calmed herself, Laura had dried her tears and lit another candle for the little lost soul who had never known sunlight before quietly exiting the church. Without words, Spencer had moved forward and settled himself on the hard wooden pew next to where Aaron had slumped on Laura’s exit.

 

“Sometimes, I have no words,” Aaron had murmured, cradling the cup between his palms, hoping that the warmth would leech into his skin.

 

“Sometimes there aren’t any. Sometimes that isn’t what people need. You’re a good listener, Hotch. That’s rare.” Aaron had looked at the young man slouched next to him, all long limbs at awkward angles, tie loosened and askew and the fleeting thought of pressing his lips to the long line of Spencer’s throat had raced through his mind. He’d cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, desperate to clear his mind of thoughts that he was sure he had eradicated.

 

“Well, I’m here to listen to you. Another case? Are you ever at home?”

 

Spencer chuckled, his Adam’s apple bobbing gently. “Sometimes. Actually, this week we were here. So, no case. No current nightmares. I guess most importantly, no cravings. I just, um, happened to be in the neighbourhood and thought I’d drop in. Say hi, you know.”

 

“Hi!” Aaron had answered, feeling himself grinning one of those rare smiles that showed his teeth and brought his dimples into play. He so rarely saw Spencer bathed in the sunlight from the stained glass window. Aaron was inordinately proud of that window. When he had first come to this church it had been a total wreck. Some would say that it still was but Aaron knew better. The previous priest and been old, bored, and basically had allowed the church to crumble around him out of negligence. The plaster was cracked, the floor thick with grime, the large window behind the altar was plain glass made opaque with years of dust. Aaron had spent weeks scrubbing the outside walls clean. The people of the neighbourhood had started to notice him. At first they’d stopped by to talk. Then they’d brought him lemonade. Eventually, a few had rolled up with buckets and soap, with screwdrivers and 2x4s. The community had rebuilt the church. Aaron had taken pictures. He’d sent them to the Archdiocese of Washington accompanied with glowing words about community spirit fostering faith. Eventually, they’d promised him a stained glass window designed by some famous artist from New York. Aaron had declined. He’d walked the streets one day until he came across a group of kids who quickly shoved their cans of spray paint in their backpacks at the sight of him but he’d approached them with his hands outstretched. He’d told them what he wanted and he’d brought them back to the church where they sat down with sketchpads and markers until they’d designed the beautiful window that was currently illuminating the hair of the man beside him. Father Rossi had appeared the day after Aaron had sent in the sketches and his explanation. He’d wanted to see the good work that was being done by the radical priest of Bellevue. Aaron had denied that he was a radical but he’d got his beautiful window and somehow Father Rossi had stayed too. Still, the warmth that he felt every time he looked at the window paled in comparison to the warm feeling of Spencer sitting next to him, gazing at the glass.

 

“It’s strangely beautiful,” Spencer answered as if reading Aaron’s mind rather than following his gaze. “Very unusual.”

 

It was an unusual design. Jesus was suspended on the cross with arms outstretched but his features were sharpened abstractions, his limbs as jagged as the wood on which he hung. Behind him a desolate landscape stretched out in shades of red and orange. Above him lightning crashed across the dark blue sky. There didn’t seem to be much salvation in the picture but Aaron had understood that those kids didn’t feel there was much salvation in the world for them. And yet, they had unanimously decided to scrawl across the bottom of the picture, in the black sharp letters of a rudimentary tag: Saved.

 

“It was specially designed by the community when I first came here.”

 

“How long ago was that?”

 

“Almost ten years. The kids who designed it are grown up now. Some have kids of their own. Some still come to church.”

 

“You do good work here. I actually enjoy coming to mass. You and Father Rossi are not what I would have expected.”

 

“Father Rossi works in mysterious ways.”

 

Spencer laughed softly as the door opened again. “I’ll let you get back to your work.” Spencer stood and Aaron followed him, almost asking him not to leave. “Enjoy your coffee.”

 

“Thank you, Spencer.”

 

Aaron had pushed his feelings down deep inside him once Spencer had left, only letting them rise to the surface when he slept and dreamed hazy dreams of kissing Spencer in front of sun scorched hills. The conversation tonight had thrown open all the locked doors in Aaron’s mind. His moment of hesitation and confusion had been down to the fact that he never would have imagined that Spencer would have returned his attraction. Spencer was an intelligent, successful young man. Certainly, he’d had his struggled but he had overcome which simply made him more remarkable. Also, he had the face and figure to be spread across the pages of fashion magazines. Aaron couldn’t understand what he could possibly see in an old, tired priest. His stomach clenched at the thought that maybe Spencer only wanted him for his collar, for the taboo of it but that hadn’t seemed the case. Spencer had run out after his confession, clearly anticipating rejection. And he was back where he started, only now his coffee cup was empty.

 

This dilemma wasn’t one that he was going to be able to sort out for himself, Aaron realized with a sigh. He pulled out his phone and pressed one on speed dial. Impatiently, he tapped his foot waiting for David to answer.

 

“Aaron? Has the church burnt down?”

 

“No. Why would the church have burnt down?”

 

“Candles,” Father Rossi mumbled sleepily, “We have a lot of candles. And curtains. There’s definitely the curtains.”

 

“David. The church is fine.”

 

Aaron heard a grumble over the phone followed by a groan of despair. “Then why are you calling me at two in morning?”

 

“It’s two in the morning?” Aaron looked in surprise at his wristwatch.

 

“Not all of us survive on black coffee and God’s word, Aaron. Some of us need sleep.”

 

“I sleep,” Aaron protested. He slept a solid four or sometimes five hours most nights. “Anyway, I need your help.”

 

“And it can’t wait until morning?”

 

“David,” Aaron sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his brow. “I think I’m having a crisis.”

 

“Midlife or existential?”

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“So am I. Okay, give me an hour.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Make me coffee.”

 

“I will.” Aaron hung up the phone and placed it gently on the side table on top of his book. The blanket caught his attention and he ran his fingers over the soft fabric. He’d dragged this blanket with him like a security blanket since seminary but somehow the fact that Spencer had wrapped himself in it seemed to imbue it with a new significance. He looked at the way the colours gently blended into each other and felt that the blanket seemed to belong more to Spencer now. He hadn’t thought twice about covering the young man with it the first night they had met. It wasn’t the first time that someone had looked for a warm place to spend the night in the church but it was the first time that he’d brought his own personal blanket out for them to use. He still couldn’t explain why. Bringing the material to his nose, he inhaled deeply but all he could smell was his laundry detergent. He wondered what it would be like to be able to bury his face in a pillow that smells of Spencer. It seemed like a ridiculous teenage fantasy.

 

He busied himself waiting for David to arrive by tidying his already meticulous apartment until even he realised that there was nothing else to be done. Luckily, the door to the vestry was pushed open and David appeared scratching at the stubble on his face with his collar askew on the dress shirt he’d clearly pulled over his head in a hurry.

 

“So where’s the fire?” David asked, eagerly grabbing the mug of coffee Aaron pushed in his direction.

 

“I told you. No fire. Just a very confused priest.”

 

“Okay okay. Hit me with it.” David settled himself on the sofa, giving his friend his full attention.

 

Aaron stopped, suddenly unable to speak. If he spoke now, it could mean the end of his career. It would be the end of everything he’d worked for his entire life. He also didn’t want to implicate Spencer or make him out to be some kind of lecherous predator because he wasn’t. He had no idea where to start and he could feel his mouth flapping open and shut, his breathe coming faster, shorter. His hands began to shake. David laid a warm hand on his shoulder, forcing him into the old armchair.

 

“Aaron. Stop. Breathe.” Reflexively, Aaron gasped in a sharp breath, taking a moment to compose himself. “Good. Now why did you call me?”

 

“Someone made a pass at me.”

 

“Well, that happens pretty much every week. You’re a good looking guy.”

 

“Yes, well no. Thank you? I just, oh shit.”

 

“Cursing. Well, this is serious,” David responded wryly. “You like her.”

 

“I like him,” Aaron whispered, unable to look up from his clasped hands.

 

“Oh,” there was no derision in his tone which eased the tension in Aaron’s shoulders. “Did he do anything inappropriate?”

 

“No. David, you make it sound like Spencer molested me. All he did was confess his attraction and then he left.”

 

“Is this the young man with the long hair who sometimes sits at the back on Sundays?”

 

“Yes. You’ve noticed him?”

 

“He never takes his eyes off of you.”

 

“What am I going to do?”

 

“You’re going to start at the beginning.”

 

“The beginning?”

 

“Yes. When did you meet Spencer?”

 

“Um, it was about two months ago. He came into the church late one night. The night when we had that terrible storm, remember?” Rossi nodded. “Um, he looked troubled and I asked him if he was here for confession.”

 

“He’s not Catholic, is he?”

 

“No but his knowledge is as good as yours. He can place any quotation from several different bibles.”

 

“But he’s not a believer?”

 

“No. Why is that important?”

 

“Go on with the story.”

 

Aaron furrowed his brow at his friend but David just took another slow sip of his coffee. “So, he eventually entered the confessional and we talked. He works at the FBI. He was troubled by a case that he had been on and it had made him – “Aaron paused, suddenly unwilling to share the secret of Spencer’s addiction. Not that David would tell anyone; his friend could be trusted. Still, Spencer had given that trust to Aaron and he didn’t want to betray that in any way. “He was struggling with what he had seen and he needed someone to talk to. The cases they take, David, I can’t even imagine seeing that level of horror and depravity on a daily basis. I don’t know how he still smiles. I don’t think I’d ever smile if I did what his team does. He was exhausted and totally drained and I found him asleep in the confessional.”

 

“I remember that. You told me someone had come to sleep in the church.”

 

“Yeah, that was the first night be came by. Then he came to mass for this first time that Sunday. You were leading. He um, he came to hear my voice. He likes my voice, David.”

 

“Aaron, I want to hear this story, I do, but right now you sound like a fourteen year old girl. Does he have your picture in his locker?”

 

“You’re an asshole, David. I don’t care how much God loves you.”

 

“It’s true. Go on.”

 

“Really?” David motioned with his hand as he finished off his coffee. “Fine. So, he came back after his next case and we talked again. You know he finished high school at twelve. He told me he has a PhD but maybe he has more than one. Though, his music knowledge is appalling.”

 

“Sounds like he had better things to do.”

 

“He wasn’t sure if the White Album was by the Beatles.” Rossi winced. “I enjoy talking to him. Sometimes, when he tells me about the cases it makes me feel sick to my stomach but he needs someone to talk to and I like being that person. I think he’s been very lonely for a long time.”

 

“He seems to have opened up to you easily.”

 

“I told him about my childhood,” Aaron said softly, looking at David with wide, honest eyes.

 

“You told him about your father? It took me three years and half a bottle of whiskey to get you to open up about that. When did you talk about that?”

 

“Second or third time he came to confession. There’s something about him that inspires confidences.”

 

“You barely know him. Then you didn’t know him at all. What can it possibly be, Aaron?”

 

“I don’t know. He has this quiet, gentle manner.”

 

“You are so head over heels,” David joked.

 

But Aaron’s answer was heartbreakingly earnest, “I know.”

 

David groaned and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Go on then.”

 

“He was called onto a case when we were talking once. I didn’t want him to go so I gave him my phone number. I didn’t think he would call. I thought he’d probably delete it but he called me. It was the middle of the night and he woke me up.”

 

“I can’t imagine what that could possibly feel like,” David deadpanned, looking pointedly at his watch. “You two are perfect for each other.” Aaron glared at him. “So he called.”

 

“I thought it was Sean.”

 

David sucked in a sharp breath. “Have you heard from your brother recently?”

 

“Not since the last time he called needing to be bailed out. I think he’s in New York. Can we stick to my troubles?”

 

“Okay, so he called you in the middle of the night. What did you talk about?”

 

“His case,” Aaron paused, hesitating, remembering how he’d felt while talking to Spencer in the middle of the night from his bed. Spencer’s voice had been lower, huskier from exhaustion. The effect it had on Aaron’s body had been beyond his control. Eventually, he had to reach beneath the covers to rearrange his erection which had been pushing uncomfortably against the button of his boxer briefs. Feeling horrible, he’d bitten his lip against the gasp that had threatened to escape at the merest touch of his hand accompanied by Spencer’s voice in his ear and the temptation to continue had required a near superhuman effort to resist. But he had. When he’d hung up the phone, he’d given up on sleep and resigned himself to a near freezing shower. “We talked about his case.”

 

“Anticlimactic,” David sighed.

 

You have no idea, Aaron thought to himself as he frowned at his friend and stated: “My dilemma is not part of one of your telenovelas.”

 

“No, but it could be. So far nothing you’ve told me sounds like anything more than friendly confidences. What happened that’s got you all wound up?”

 

“He came by tonight. He was part of the team that found the little girl in the mall.”

 

“I saw it on the news. I was praying for her all morning.”

 

Aaron nodded. They both had been. “It was rough. He told me details that weren’t on the news. That girl has been suffering for a long time. And he told me some more about his past that I am treating as if they were told to me in the confessional.”

 

David nodded his understanding, the paused. “So you weren’t in the confessional tonight?”

 

“No, I invited him in here for a drink. He was exhausted and even this sofa is more comfortable than a hard wooden bench. He, um, he told me he was gay and I realized that he was telling me that he was attracted to me. I didn’t get it at first.” David snorted out a laugh that had Aaron glaring at him. “Yes, well, self-awareness apparently isn’t my strong suit. I was so surprised that I think I led him to believe that I was disgusted, at the very least that I definitely wasn’t interested.”

 

“But you very clearly are.” Aaron nodded glumly. “Tell me something Aaron, have you ever been with anyone?”

 

“Are you asking if I’m a virgin?”

 

“Well, yes, but also if you have ever dated.”

 

“I’m a virgin, David.” Aaron answered, unable to raise his eyes from the threadbare carpet under his black socks. “And no. I have never dated.”

 

“Have you ever been interested?”

 

“Other than Spencer?” Aaron looked up and David nodded. Nervously, he bit his lip and returned his gaze to the floor. He could tell David the story of Caleb. Caleb had been at seminary at the same time as Aaron. They hadn’t been roommates but Aaron had often wished that they had been. Caleb had broad shoulders, thick dark brown hair that flopped down onto his forehead. He had kind eyes and a bitter twist to his smile. Every word that came out his mouth had been laced with zealotry but there had always been a hint of heresy to what he had to say. Nothing that the Fathers could have ever criticized but it had been there. Aaron often wondered what had happened to Caleb, where he had ended up. “There was a girl in high school. Her name was Haley Brookes. I thought I’d like to marry her.” Aaron may have loved and trusted Father Rossi but not enough to share that he suspected that he had always been gay. Surely, David would read between the lines and come to that conclusion but Aaron had no desire to state it outright.

 

David scoffed in disbelief. “In high school, you thought about marrying her. Not, you know, shoving a hand up her sweater.”

 

“David!” Aaron groaned, still scandalized. Still, there was a reason that Father David Rossi was in this parish at his age. He’d never been quite conservative enough to allow him to advance very high. Though, he also had a strong desire to help those in need. He did good work here, albeit, rather unconventionally.

 

At this moment, he had turned his keen calculating eye at the space just above Aaron’s left shoulder. “I see,” David murmured and Aaron knew that everything that he had left unsaid had now been parsed.  “You were very young when you received your calling.”

 

“I was eighteen. I went to seminary as soon as I had finished school.”

 

“You know that I was older, yes? I came back from Vietnam and, well, the things that we saw over there made a man what to seek something. I sought God. Some of my friends sought justice. Many sought to drown themselves in alcohol. Still, my point is that I was older, more experienced.” David’s sombre demeanour melted away and he flashed Aaron a cheeky grin. “Still you could have strapped this collar around my neck at fifteen and I would have been pretty experienced.”

 

“David,” Aaron groaned again, though this time with a fond smile.

 

“I’m trying to say that perhaps you didn’t have enough time to explore and maybe you need to do that.”

 

“Are you saying that I should leave the church?” Aaron asked, chewing his bottom lip worriedly.

 

“No, at least not yet. Nothing that you have done so far has in any way gone against doctrine. You are perfectly allowed to be attracted to a man. You know that.”

 

“But if I act on it –“ Aaron trailed off, knowing the end of that sentence.

 

“If you act on it, then yes, you will be going against the teachings of the church. You will have to decide at that point whether you want to stay in the church living a life that could be considered hypocritical or if you would like to leave.”

 

“What else would I do, David? This is all I’ve ever trained for.”

 

“You’re putting the cart before the horse. Take some time. Get to know Spencer and decide whether this attraction is just a mere flash of lust or if you are truly attracted to him.”

 

“So I should date him?”

 

“Get to know him outside of your role as his confessor. Take him for dinner.”

 

“Dinner. Right, I can do dinner.”

 

“Alright. I’m going to go lie down in your bed. It’s not like you’re going to sleep anyway.”

 

“I’ll call Spencer.”

 

“Aaron. Wait until at least seven. Go sweep the floors. Whatever gets your rocks off. Well, you know except getting your rocks off with Spencer.”

 

“David,” Aaron sighed again. “Go to sleep. You’re getting crude.”

 

David just mumbled his agreement and staggered in the direction of Aaron’s bed, closing the door behind him. Aaron settled back onto the sofa and opened his book, determined to wait until at least seven to phone Spencer. His mind drifted to the past and the chances that he had possibly missed. He’d been so desperate to get away from the nightmare of his abusive family home when he was a child that he had clutched at whatever kept him out of his father’s grasp. Father Abraham was the priest at the church that he had attended with his mother and brother every Sunday. Of course, his father thought that religion was a waste of time. By the time Aaron was about eleven years old, the priest had started to question the buttoned cuffs and collar that Aaron wore even in the hottest days of the Virginia summer. When Aaron came to church with a black eye that even his mother’s make up hadn’t been able to disguise, Father Abraham had pulled Aaron aside to ask him what had happened. Aaron’s clumsy excuse that he’d walked into a door hadn’t satisfied him but Aaron had begged him not to push it. Instead he’d asked if Aaron would be interested in becoming more involved in the church. Father Abraham was getting older and he could use the help. Aaron’s father had raged against it but his mother had pointed out that it would be good for the family’s reputation. Aaron started spending more and more time at the church. He cycled there after school. He woke up at the crack of dawn to help prepare for mass. Finally he had felt like he had a calling in life. Everyone had always assumed he would follow his father into law. That assumption had weighed heavily on Aaron’s shoulders. He didn’t want to be a lawyer. Sometimes he dreamed of becoming a police officer; he dreamed of putting men like his father behind bars but that seemed utterly unattainable. When Father Abraham had started dropping hints about Aaron attending seminary, Aaron hadn’t thought twice about it and he hadn’t looked back until now. Now he wondered what it would have been like to have a more traditional youth. He wondered what it would have been like to go to university, to date. He wondered if that is something he’d want now.

 

Finally the hands on his watch told him that it was ten past seven, and he put his book down having read less than a chapter.

  
“Hello?” Spencer’s voice sounded timid, uncertain, almost quaking with fear. Aaron didn’t want to have that sort of power over this man. It made his stomach twist. He had never liked the idea of people fearing him. Too much like his father for comfort. No, he had to set Spencer’s mind at rest right now.

 

“Good morning, Spencer. Would you be interested in having dinner? With me. Would you have dinner with me?”

 

“What? Why?” Spencer sounded genuinely confused and surprised as if he had been expecting Aaron to start shouting at him.

 

“People need to eat and I thought that we could eat together.”

 

“Hotch,” Spencer sighed heavily and Aaron could picture the way he would hang his head slightly, even from the half hidden glimpses he had seen of the man from behind the wooden grating. “If this is a pity thing –“

 

“No. No. Definitely not. There is nothing pitiful about you.”

 

“Then why?”

 

“I’ll be honest with you, Spencer. I have never been in a relationship. I’ve always thought that a relationship with God was enough for me.”

 

“So would you call yourself asexual?” Spencer hummed thoughtfully.

 

“No. I don’t think so. I have been attracted to people before.” Aaron paused, biting his lip as he gathered the courage to share with Spencer what he had been unable to even share with David. “Men. I’ve been attracted to men before but never enough to act on it.” Spencer remained silent. In the background, Aaron could hear typical office sounds before silence fell and he was sure they’d been cut off. “Spencer?”

 

“I’m here. I just moved into a private room. This call doesn’t need to be shared with my nosy co-workers.”

 

“Thank you. So, um, dinner?”

 

“I don’t know. What do you want? Is this a date?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m ready for a date. I just thought that we could meet and talk but somewhere other than the church.”

 

There was silence and then a rush of breath. “Okay. Yes. I’d like to have dinner with you.”

 

“Great. Good. Okay, where? When?”

 

“Well, there’s a missing woman in Dallas. I imagine that we’ll be flying out there in the next couple of hours but I could call you when I get back.”

 

“Fine. Yes. You can call me while you’re away as well. You know, if you needed someone to talk to. I hope that no matter what we’ll remain friends.”

 

“We’re friends?” Spencer asked incredulously.

 

“Well, I know it’s unconventional but I think so.”

 

“Oh. Well, um,” a door opened in the background and Aaron heard Spencer exchanging words with another person before the door closed again. “We’ve got a briefing now. I’ll call you. Bye.”

 

“Stay safe,” Aaron whispered and then disconnected the call.

 

“So?” David asked, emerging from the bedroom running his fingers through his hair.

 

“Your timing is impeccable,” Aaron commented wryly.

 

“Nah, I waited with my ear to the door. Someone has a date.”

 

“If you were listening, you would know that it is not a date. And shouldn’t you be dissuading me from this. This goes against everything I vowed.” Aaron scrubbed a hand through his hair and flopped down into his chair. He’d need to start preparing for mass soon but how could he stand in front of his parishioners and preach to them when he was harbouring illicit thoughts about a young man. If they ever found out, it would be the end of his entire career. His reputation would be ruined. He’d been very careful to never give anyone any reason to suspect he was gay. A gay priest would be accused of unthinkable things.

 

“Aaron calm down.” David was suddenly right there, with his hands clasping Aaron’s. “We’ve been through this. You have done nothing wrong. As you said, this is not a date. You are simply going for a meal with a friend. If it becomes more than that, well, then you will have to decide what you want to do. You have options and, no matter what, you have friends who will support you.” David’s face shone with an earnestness that he rarely exhibited and Aaron was hit by a wave of gratitude for his friend.

 

“I think I’ve always been gay,” he muttered.

 

“Yeah, I got that.”

 

“I’m a terrible Catholic.”

 

“Every Catholic thinks they’re a terrible Catholic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Caleb is Nathan Fillion's character from the last season of Buffy. I blame him for my priest kink.


	5. Considerations

Aaron fumbled the phone as it rang in his pocket, shoving the screwdriver sideways between his teeth and getting his balance on the rickety wooden stepladder. The annoyance of the swaying light fixture that was suspended from the ceiling of the church had finally got to him and, since no one seemed to be stopping in this evening, he’d decided to fix it.

 

“Hello?” he answered rather tersely, spitting the screwdriver back into his hand.

 

“Um, hello? You, um, you said I should call. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

 

“No. Spencer, hi. You’re not bothering me. I just, I’m on the ceiling. Give me a moment.”

 

“You’re on the ceiling?”

 

Aaron chuckled but sat down on the top step of the ladder before answering. “I’m fixing the light in the church. This ladder is precarious.”

 

“You know in 2011, 52 people died from falling off ladders in the UK.”

 

“That’s not very reassuring.”

 

“It was almost a 9% reduction from 2007.”

 

“Well then, I’ll sleep easy tonight,” Aaron murmured, shaking the ladder slightly with his hand and frowning at it as it shuddered.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure God’s looking out for you.”

 

Aaron chewed his lip and thought of all the sinful thoughts that had passed through his mind recently and decided to change the subject. “So where are you?”

 

“Still in Dallas. This is a weird one.”

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

“Yes but not right now. We’ve only got a few moments to grab some food while we wait for the pathologist’s report.”

 

“And you chose to call me. Are you eating at all?”

 

“I have a sandwich.” Aaron heard paper rustle in the background. “Oh, fuck Morgan. He put pickles on it. Screw you Derek!” The last part was shouted and Aaron heard a deep, male laugh in the background.

 

“Not a fan of pickles?” Aaron asked with a smile.

 

“They’re unnatural,” Spencer grumbled. “The cheese is going to be all vinegar-y now. I’ll get him back.”

 

“I feel it is my job to counsel you here that if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.”

 

“Well, Morgan definitely qualifies as an evildoer but I’m going Old Testament on his ass. Hey, Derek, better start saving for a new MP3 player again!” Aaron held the phone away from his ear as the last part was shouted.

 

“What happened to his last MP3 player?”

 

“Somehow its entire contents was replaced with audio of me screaming. Impossible to erase.” Aaron tried to imagine a smug smile on Spencer’s face.

 

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

 

“I don’t think you could,” Spencer murmured and Aaron bit his lip against his grin. There was more shouting in the background, with someone seeming to call Spencer lover boy before Spencer spoke again. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Can I call you again?”

 

“Please. Say Spencer, why do you know statistics about ladder deaths in Britain?”

 

“I can read 20,000 words a minute. You can’t imagine how much I have to read to fill the hours in a day.”

 

“Oh okay. Stay safe.”

 

“Thank you. You too. Make sure the ladder is braced correctly.”

 

“Will do. Good night.”

 

“Night, Aaron.”

 

Aaron slipped the phone back into his pocket and looked up at the screws again. Only two more that needed to be tightened and then he could get off this death trap.”

 

“Would you like me to hold the ladder, Father Hotchner?” A soft, sibilant voice drifted up from the shadows of the pews below him and Aaron nearly fell off the ladder in surprise.

 

“Nathan?”

 

“Yes, Father?” The young man moved out of the shadows and looked up at the priest, his face shining with a pale sweat.

 

“Are you here for confession?” Aaron asked, swallowing heavily. Nathan always made him somewhat nervous and the detailed dreams and thoughts he confided in the priest did nothing to ease that discomfort.

 

“Yes. I can wait. Finish your work.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron answered slightly shakily. He was sure Nathan was a good kid at heart, but he wouldn’t be his first choice for trust exercises. The young man moved forward, palms gripping the wood as he looked up at the priest. Aaron offered a smile and returned to the task at hand, quickly tightening the screws before descending the ladder, wiping the dust from his hands on his slacks.

 

“It doesn’t swing anymore,” Nathan said sadly, looking up at the stationary fixture. The shadows on his face deepened, creating dark hollows under his cheekbones, his eye sockets were voids that seemed to swallow the light. “I guess it was dangerous. Could fall on someone. Kill them. That would be bad, I guess.”

 

“It wasn’t that loose, Nathan.” Aaron assured him. “It annoyed me more than anything. Would you like to wait for me in the confessional? I just need to put away the ladder and the toolbox.”

 

Nathan nodded his agreement and slouched over towards the confessional box. Aaron frowned after him. Nathan was a very troubled young man. He’d started coming to the church just over a year ago. In much the same way as Spencer, he’d come through the door late one night needing to talk to someone and he’d kept coming back. However, unlike Spencer, he wasn’t describing someone else’s sick fantasies but his own. It wasn’t Aaron’s place to judge but every time Nathan came through the door, he felt his stomach sink and he wondered if this was the time that he was going to describe something he’d done rather than something he’d imagined doing. Aaron briskly packed up his tools and stowed the box in the cupboard with the broom, securely locking it behind him. The church doors might always be open but they were welcoming, not naïve. Taking a deep breath he moved towards the confessional and earnestly prayed to God that Nathan had only come to talk about his bad dreams.

 

*****

 

“Hi,” Aaron murmured as he picked up the phone, his voice somewhat softer than he’d intended.

 

“Hi there. Are you busy?”

 

“I just got back from a run. How’s the case?” Truth was Aaron had gone for an extra run this evening to stop himself from sitting staring at his phone. He’d hoped Spencer would call again the night before. After spending over an hour with Nathan, he had longed to hear Spencer’s soothing voice even if it was only over a tinny speaker. After nearly twenty-four hours of constantly checking his phone like a teenager, he’d decided it would be best to get out of his own head for a while. Nothing did that better than a brutal run around the neighbourhood and the near-by park. He was standing in the kitchen holding his soaked running shirt in one hand and his water bottle in the other when his phone rang. He’d dropped both in his haste to reach for it.

 

“Over. He’s dead, suicide by cop.” Aaron could practically hear the shrug. “It’s always a possibility.”

 

“I’m sorry. I know you take these things hard.”

 

“Too hard, I guess. Anyway, I’m at the airport now, waiting for the jet to be cleared for take-off. I’ll be home tonight.”

 

“Oh, great. Good.”

 

“Did you – um—did you still want to meet? For dinner, I mean.”

 

“Yes, very much so.”

 

“Good. That’s good. I was thinking maybe you’d like to come to mine?”

 

“Your house?”

 

“Well, I know it’s not exactly a small town but I thought you might want to avoid being recognized at a restaurant.”

 

“Yes,” Aaron agreed, though why wouldn’t he want to be recognized? It was just dinner after all. Suddenly, his mind conjured up imagined images of Spencer pushing him against the wall of a dark alley and shoving a hand down the front of his slacks, of Spencer digging those long fingers into his hair as he licked his way down Aaron’s neck, of Spencer spreading him out across his bed. His cock stiffened in his pants and he glared at it in disapproval. He really wasn’t ready for that. Where were these images even coming from? Spencer’s voice filtered back through and he realized that he’d been missing whatever he had been saying.

 

“ – that maybe I could cook?”

 

“You can cook?”

 

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t invite you if I couldn’t. I am an adult you know.”

 

“I know. Really, I noticed.” Aaron glared down at his tented slacks again. Ever since he’d allowed himself to even entertain the notion of an attraction to Spencer, his body had reacted with unbridled enthusiasm. Years of abstinence from even thinking about someone, let alone touching himself, had apparently left him with the control of a teenage boy.

 

“What?”

 

“Never mind. That sounds good. When are you thinking?”

 

“Well, I thought maybe tomorrow night since I never know when I’ll be called back out. So, you know, seize the day but if that doesn’t work for you then whenever.”

 

“Tomorrow’s good, Spencer. I’ll call Father Rossi and let him know to be here.”

 

“What will you tell him?”

 

“The truth. I confided in him that night after you left. He knows that we’re going to dinner.”

 

“And he’s okay with that.”

 

“We’ve not done anything wrong, Spencer. I – ah—I don’t know if you had expectations but I thought this really was just dinner. I don’t know if I can offer you more than that.”

 

“No. Of course not, Aaron. I wasn’t expecting anything ever. I’m just looking forward to getting to know you better. No expectations, I promise.”

 

The frantic earnestness in Spencer’s tone eased the knot that had formed in Aaron’s stomach at the thought of sex being expected tomorrow night. His body might think it was ready for that but mentally he knew he was far from it. “Okay, so what time?”

 

“Say seven thirty or eight?”

 

“Sounds good. Text me your address.”

 

“Will do. I’m really looking forward to this, Aaron.”

 

“Me too, Spencer.” Aaron hung up the phone with a broad smile before he frowned down his body. This wouldn’t do. He’d just ignore it and go about his nightly routine. Dried sweat had left him feeling gritty and his persistent erection was just as irritating. The effect that Spencer’s voice had on him was really unfair. With a sigh, he toed off his running shoes and trudged into his bedroom to collect fresh boxers and an undershirt. Once he was in the bathroom, with the shower running to heat up the water which always took a good ten minutes with the creaking old plumbing, he stripped off, glaring at his still erect penis. As he pulled his boxers off, the back of his palm brushed against the head and he bit his lip against the moan that threatened to spill forth. Maybe he could do this, he thought. For the first time in nearly two decades, he could take himself in his hand and bring himself to climax. A fleeting image of Spencer in front of the stained glass window, the sunlight on his face, flashed into his mind and he tightened his fingers around the length, tugging gently. Falling forward, he braced his hand on the edge of the porcelain sink, fingers slipping on the cool, wet surface as he dragged a thumb over his slit. Gasping in a sharp breath, he looked up with wide, open eyes into his own reflection. His pupils seemed to subsume his usual chocolate irises and his mouth hung slackly as he breathed heavily. Shame burned hot in his gut and he wrenched his hand away from his cock as if he’d been burned. Was this really what he wanted? He’d fought against sexual urges for most of his life and now he was jerking off in his bathroom. It seemed so primal and absurd. He was practically middle aged. The lines on his face were a testament to that fact. Aggressively, he wrenched back the shower curtain and turned the now tepid water down to a freezing blast and stepped underneath with a small yelp. Anyway, it was just dinner. It didn’t have to be anything more than that.

 

The following evening, David stepped into the apartment after a perfunctory rap on the door calling out Aaron’s name.

 

“I’m in here,” Aaron replied absentmindedly, glaring at his reflection in the small mirror on the wall above his record player. His living room may have been an example of staunch minimalism but it was in the bedroom that Aaron’s hedonistic side was revealed, or at least his love of music. One entire wall was lined with shelves that were crammed with carefully alphabetized records. The genres ran from classic rock to early blues to modern country and Aaron loved every single one of them. At the moment, Ronnie Van Zant counselled him to be a simple man while Aaron contemplated abandoning this entire enterprise.

 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” David asked with disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the sight in front of him. “I’ll bet your wearing your leather jacket as well.”

 

“Yes?” Aaron asked uncertainly, picking at his T-shirt. “What’s wrong with it? We’re having dinner at his house.”

 

“Oh well,” David smirked, “I guess that explains it.”

 

Aaron felt that he was missing something but he didn’t have the patience for Father Rossi’s cryptic teasing. “Maybe I should cancel.”

 

“When was the last time you talked to someone other than me?”

 

“Nathan came in for confession the other night.”

 

David frowned. The frequently discussed young Nathan and David worried that he was unhealthily attached to Aaron and that his fantasises were too developed to be treated with anything other than institutionalization. Aaron agreed on the last part but was unwilling to betray the boy’s trust. “Other than confession and meeting with the congregation. When was the last time you talked to a friend?”

Aaron opened his mouth. “Remember, other than me.” Aaron shut his mouth. “I thought so. Go out for dinner, Aaron. Eat. Talk. Drink. Stop thinking two steps ahead.”

 

“Will you be okay here on your own?”

 

“Amazingly I managed on my own for years before I met you. I was always a lone wolf. You’re the exception.”

 

“Thank you, David.”

 

“Here, take these.” David threw his car keys at Aaron who caught them deftly.

 

“I was going to get the bus.”

 

“I know. Take my car, Aaron. Don’t scratch her.”

 

Aaron may have loved his records but Father Rossi’s love for his car bordered on idolatry. “I won’t,” Aaron assured him with a smile. “I just hope I can fit my legs in.”

 

“Eh, you’re too tall. It’s not my fault the Italians don’t design for strapping Virginia boys. Go on, scoot. I’ll keep everything running smoothly here.”

 

“Thank you,” Aaron repeated, sliding his wallet and phone into his pockets and sparing one more glance for his reflection before striding out the door. He could have sworn he heard Rossi murmur ‘go get ‘em, tiger’ or something like that but that would have been ridiculous.

 

He was grateful for David’s support but as he exited the church and saw the red car that David had repeatedly informed him was a Ferrari 250 GT Berlinetta Lusso, he couldn’t help but sigh heavily. It was a ridiculous car. Aaron didn’t own a car but, if he did, he’d want something practical, sturdy, environmentally friendly. This thing was none of the above plus he felt like he was a sardine squished into a can when he tried to get his legs in, even with the seat pushed back. He half-heartedly waved to a couple of parishioners as he drove down the street and towards the address Spencer had given him.

Spencer’s apartment block was a pleasingly old building in a street that was clearly in the process of swift gentrification. He parked David’s car outside of a hip new coffee shop and walked the half block to Spencer’s doorway. At the secure entry he paused, scanning the names before he saw a Dr. S. Reid. That must be Spencer. It seemed ridiculous that, up until this moment, he hadn’t even known his surname. His short buzz was answered quickly and he was relieved to hear Spencer’s voice through the tinny speaker.

 

“It’s Aaron,” he replied, leaning in to the microphone.

 

“Come up, top floor,” was the reply before the door clicked open. There was no elevator in the lobby but a wooden staircase spiralled upwards as Aaron started to climb. The hallway was quiet but he could hear the sounds of life within from behind the doors: a child laughed, a television blared, a couple argued as he made his way to the fourth floor. A door was ajar at the end of the hallway and, as he stepped forwards, it swung open to reveal Spencer smiling broadly before his eyes widened in surprise.

 

Aaron saw Spencer still in front of him, his eyes trailing up and down the length of the body in front of him, drinking Aaron in, his hand suspended in mid-air gesturing for Aaron to enter but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Aaron shifted uncomfortably. “You’re wearing clothes,” Spencer finally blurted out and instantly blushed furiously. “I mean you’re wearing normal clothes.”

 

“Is that okay?” Hotch brushed nervous hands down the front of his T-shirt until he reached the buckle of his belt. He’d thought that jeans and a casual T-shirt would be suitable for the evening and he liked the fit of the shirt, slim but not too tight.

 

“Yes, of course. I mean, of course. Come in.” Spencer finally stepped back and let the other man into his apartment, closing the door behind him. He took Aaron’s jacket and then started walking fown the corridor but Aaron stood frozen with his back against the door unable to follow, instead he was just stood beside the coatrack looking down at his feet. Spencer stopped, turned, realizing Aaron wasn’t with him.

 

When he spoke, Aaron could feel how thick his voice was, the words like syrup sticking in his throat. “Was that the attraction? The dog collar? Was that it?”

 

“No, definitely not. I mean, yes, no. Look.” Spencer took a deep breath stepped forward and then, thrust his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. “I think we should be honest with each other from the start so I’m not going to deny that I find you very sexy in your dog collar and your robes. I have a problem with forbidden things. I find them alluring.” Spencer addressed this all to the floor, unable to look up at Aaron. “I mean, you know about my addiction history but it’s more than that. I spent most of my childhood being the best I could be. I looked after my mom. I got amazing grades. I volunteered to help the teachers at every opportunity. So, when it comes to my sexual preferences. I, um, I guess I sometimes like to be a bad boy, for want of a better phrase because that makes me sound like a twink in a bad porn movie.” Aaron had no idea what that meant. “But I wasn’t attracted to you because of your profession. If anything, that only made me hesitate. I was attracted to your voice, to the way you speak, to the way you listen and don’t judge what you hear. I would have been just as fascinated by you if we had only ever spoken on the phone. I’m attracted to your personality, Aaron. I guess you might call it your soul. And it just so happens that that soul looks incredibly good tonight.”

 

“I’m wearing an old shirt and some jeans. There’s a hole in the back pocket,” Aaron answered wryly, a feeling of disbelief coursing through him and thankfully dampening the fire that Spencer’s speech had sent coursing through his body. “I wasn’t sure what the dress code was.”

 

Spencer chuckled slightly and gestured to his own outfit of a button up shirt open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, though Aaron noted only to the mid-forearm and he could guess why, with a worn pair of corduroys that were shiny and baggy at the knee. Finally he looked down at the mismatched socks adorning Spencer’s feet and grinned. “No dress code here,” Spencer assured him. 

 

Aaron sighed and tried to shrug the tension out of his shoulders. “If we’re being candid here, you should know that I feel totally out of my depth.”

 

“How about we start again?”

 

“What?”

 

“Start again. We’re just two guys who are going to sit down and eat a meal together.”

 

“Alright,” Aaron smiled and held out his hand. “Aaron Hotchner. Nice to meet you.”

 

Spencer smiled softly but, instead of grasping Aaron’s hand, he waved. “Spencer Reid. I, uh, don’t shake hands.”

 

“Germs?”

 

“Yup,” Spencer shrugged and smiled sheepishly. “You have no idea how many germs can be on a person’s hands. It’s actually much more sanitary to kiss.”

 

Aaron’s mouth fell open in shock. “I, um, I don’t know –“

 

“God, sorry, no. I mean, Jesus, shit, sorry again. Just no. I wasn’t suggesting we kiss. I was just commenting.” Aaron wasn’t above admitting that Spencer looked adorable when he was flustered and suddenly the idea of kissing didn’t seem quite so terrifying but it was probably best to change the subject.

 

“So, what’s for dinner?”

 

“Well, I forgot to check if you were vegetarian –“

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Ah well, I hope you don’t mind vegetarian food then. I figured you weren’t vegan and I know I could have called you but I was sort of nervous about tonight and the thought of calling you again made me even more nervous. I thought that maybe calling you three times in three days was excessive.”

 

“I look forward to your calls,” Aaron murmured, looking down at the ground again.

 

“Oh,” Aaron glanced up and saw Spencer grinning. “You can call me too, you know. If I’m on a case then I’ll text you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Spencer seemed to suddenly realize that they were still standing in the entrance hallway. “Well, I’ll show you my apartment.” He gestured for Aaron to follow him through the first doorway on the left which led into a good sized living room with bookshelves lining the walls. Most of the books were leather bound but there were a few more modern paperbacks on the lower shelves. Aaron’s eyes were instantly drawn to a smaller case with several CDs and record sleeves. A couple were still wrapped in plastic and he turned to Spencer with a knowing smile after he stepped forward to read the titles. “You went and bought The White Album.”

 

“Yup,” Spencer smiled, “and I bought the recording of Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison. The man at the record store recommended it. I haven’t had a chance to listen to either of them yet but you can put one on now if you want.”

 

“I don’t think a song about shooting a man to watch him die really fits the mood,” Aaron grinned as Spencer furrowed his brow in confusion. “What about this?” Aaron pulled out a CD at random.

 

“Brahms?” Spencer queried. “Maybe a bit dramatic.”

 

“I really don’t know my classical music,” Aaron conceded. “You’ll have to educate me.”

 

“A culture swap,” Spencer agreed. “Silence?”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

“So this is my living room and through there is the kitchen.” Spencer gestured in the direction of an archway through which he could glimpse Formica countertops and truly awful yellow cupboard doors. “It needs modernising but it does the job,” Spencer conceded as they walked in. It wasn’t a big space but there was a small table pushed up against the wall and an espresso machine took up half the counter space.

 

“I see coffee is important to you.”

 

“Coffee is life,” Spencer nodded sagely. “So, there’s vegetarian lasagne and garlic bread. Um, I made a salad as well and then I thought we could make sundaes for desert. I’ve made brownies and there’s cream and ice cream and sauce and um popcorn.” Spencer ran a hand through his hair as he got gradually more nervous as he spoke. “I guess that’s pretty childish but it’s fun and I was in the mood for a sundae.”

 

“It sounds really good, Spence.” Aaron stepped forward at the same moment as Spencer turned and suddenly they were practically nose to nose. Aaron breathed in heavily, hit by the smell of warm bread and Spencer’s subtle woody aftershave. Spencer’s pupils dilated and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, Aaron traced its progress hungrily.

 

“The food won’t be ready for about another half hour,” Spencer whispered into the small space between them.

 

“Okay,” Aaron returned, unable to move back and unwilling to move forwards.

 

“Do you want to see my bedroom?” Aaron swallowed nervously and Spencer was the one to step back suddenly, holding his hands up reassuringly. “I just meant that it’s the only other room. Apart from the bathroom. Do you want to see my bathroom? There’s also a linen closet. Honestly, I swear I am not usually this incapable of making normal conversation.”

 

Aaron rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and smiled. “Alright then show me your bedroom and the linen closet.”

 

Spencer sheepishly smiled back and led them out the kitchen. “Since you asked,” he opened the first door on the right to reveal shelves stacked with towels, sheets, and winter clothes. Aaron feigned intense interest until Spencer shoved him gently. It was their first physical contact since that night on the sofa and, even though it was fleeting, Aaron found himself yearning for more. “You should know, I tidied the whole house for you coming. There’s generally a lot more books and papers around but I didn’t want you to think anything so I didn’t tidy my bedroom and now I am regretting that.” Spencer was standing with his hand resting on the doorknob, not turning it. “Your apartment was so tidy. I bet you can bounce a quarter off your bed.”

 

Aaron conceded only to himself that you probably could. “Hey, it can’t be that bad.” Spencer grimaced but opened the door. It was that bad. The bed was unmade. There were books open on every surface (including the unmade bed). Ties were slung over the open wardrobe door and there seemed to be a pile of miscellaneous socks on a chair near the door. Well, that explained the mismatched socks. Aaron itched to start tidying the mess but one look at Spencer’s face suggested that wouldn’t go over too well. He looked so embarrassed and ashamed and Aaron was desperate to set him at ease. “Spencer, yes I keep my living space military clean but it was drilled into me at seminary. I prefer it, if I’m honest, but it wasn’t my choice at first.”

 

Spencer sighed and looked slightly more at ease. “Cleanliness is godliness.”

 

“Emptiness is loneliness and loneliness is cleanliness and cleanliness is godliness and god is empty just like me,” Aaron intoned softly smiling as Spencer looked utterly confused.

 

“I have no idea what that quote is from.”

 

“Smashing Pumpkins. My brother likes them.”

 

“You have a brother? I’m guessing he’s not a priest.”

 

“Sean, no. Definitely not.” Aaron didn’t elaborate and was glad when Spencer didn’t push. They stepped out the bedroom and Spencer gestured to the last door at the end of the corridor explaining it was the bathroom when a timer went off in the kitchen.

 

“I just need to go take the tin foil off. Make yourself at home.”

 

“Can I make your bed?” Aaron asked innocently.

 

“No!” Spencer protested and ushered him back towards the living room. “I promise I’ll make it next time you come over. Do you want a drink? I’ve got red wine, beer, I think there’s some soda, coffee and water.”

 

“I’ll take a beer, please.” Aaron settled himself on the wide sofa and looked at the picture above the fireplace. It was a collage of magazines that was somewhat unsettling though he couldn’t put his finger on why exactly. “Can I help with anything?” he shouted through to the kitchen, tilting his head and trying to figure out what was wrong about the picture.

 

Spencer stepped back into the room with a beer in each hand and settled at the other end of the sofa. “No, it just needs another fifteen minutes and then we can eat.” Aaron gestured at the collage. “It was a gift from someone after a case. Her stalker made it for her and it creeped her out.”

 

“It creeps me out. I’m not sure why.”

 

“Probably because it’s all candid photos of the same woman. If you look closely, she’s sleeping in some of them.”

 

“Why on earth is it hanging above your mantelpiece?” Aaron asked with raised eyebrows.

 

“I like the composition and it reminds me of a good friend.”

 

“Just a friend?” Aaron asked as a hot flush of jealousy surged through him. He frowned, wondering where on earth that came from. “Sorry, I have no right to ask that”.

 

Still, Spencer was smiling when Aaron looked over. “Just a friend. She, um, kissed me in her pool but, you know, she’s not really my type, being female and all. We’re much better as friends.”

 

“I still think the picture’s creepy.”

 

“Oh, yeah, it definitely is.” Spencer positively grinned and Aaron couldn’t help but laugh. “Want to come help me set the table?”

 

“Sure,” Aaron stood, carrying his beer through to the kitchen. It was a small space and as Spencer moved around adding the final touches to their meal, passing Aaron cutlery, their hips and hands brushed. Each contact felt like a small spark of electricity. The way Spencer tensed slightly each time, suggested that he was similarly affected. Aaron imagined what it would be like if Spencer turned and pressed him up against the refrigerator and plundered his mouth. He could tug on those long silky locks and see if Spencer’s neck was as delicious as it looked.

 

“Well, that’s everything,” Spencer commented, breaking Aaron’s reverie. Aaron looked over at the spread on the table.

 

“Looks great,” he sat quickly and finished off his beer to cover his embarrassment. Spencer replaced it and poured himself a glass of wine.

 

“This is really good. What’s in it?” Aaron after swallowing a large mouthful of lasagne.

 

“Um, well, the recipe called for spinach but that’s gross so I changed it to roasted red peppers and then there’s four types of cheese, cream, you know all the good stuff.”

 

“I am going to need my run tomorrow,” Aaron commented as he happily helped himself to another helping from the dish in the middle of the table.

 

“Save room for dessert,” Spencer gestured with his garlic bread at the brownies on the counter.

 

“Dessert goes into a different stomach,” Aaron argued but slowed his pace a little. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, it was more than his kitchen wasn’t really equipped for it and he certainly would never have made himself something this delicious or unhealthy.

 

Spencer smiled and they ate in companionable silence until their plates were nearly empty. “So, do you run a lot?”

 

“Usually five times a week. I’ve done triathlons in the past.”

 

“Well, that explains it.” Spencer made a vague gesture towards Aaron who looked down at his front.

 

“What?”

 

Spencer gave him a disbelieving look. “Why you look like that. I mean, when I think priest I don’t generally think of biceps and quads like those.”

 

Aaron grinned and flexed subtly. “Thank you. I’m taking that as a compliment.”

 

“You should. You look good.” Spencer smiled at him. “I like swimming. Sports was my worst nightmare in high school but I had to pass the physicals to get into the FBI Academy. Swimming’s good for clearing my head. Though, Morgan insists on sparring with me at least once a week. It’s generally painful but occasionally I get a good hit in. Are you done?”

 

“Thank you. It really was delicious.” Aaron handed Spencer his plate and watched the way the subtle play of the muscles in his forearms. Yes, he could imagine the tight toned muscles of a swimmer’s body under those clothes. When Spencer moved to the freezer and bent down to get the ice cream, his pants pulled tight over his ass and Aaron coughed loudly, feeling his ears burning red.

 

“Okay, so take whatever you want.” Spencer gestured to the array of toppings, ice cream, whipped cream in a can and syrup that he’d haphazardly collected on the remaining counter space. “Here’s your bowl.”

 

Aaron grinned, feeling like a little kid and he piled ice cream, cream, peanut butter chips, M&Ms, and chocolate syrup in a bowl. Standing back with his spoon already digging in, he watched Spencer’s far more scientific approach. There was definitely a method to the madness as the other man carefully placed his ingredients into his bowl but Aaron wasn’t following.  

 

“Let’s eat on the sofa,” Spencer’s voice was garbled as his mouth was filled with popcorn but Aaron got the idea and snagged the remains of his beer before heading back to the living room. Spencer ate his sundae with an enthusiasm that had been missing from the meal and Aaron wondered if, despite his culinary skills, the younger man would happily subsist on candy bars. He felt himself relax into the warm feeling on enjoying time with someone he liked. David was right. It was far too long since he’d made a friend. And here was a friend who could possibly be something more; an unexpected development at his age and in his line of work. The comfort he felt with Spencer seemed disproportionate to the amount of time that they’d spent together. He supposed it could be related to the forced intimacy of the confessional and the secrets shared but he thought that perhaps it was just that they just clicked. Still, he hardly knew this man.

 

“So when I got here, I realized that I didn’t even know your surname. The buzzer was an educated guess,” Aaron admitted, taking a long drink of beer. Spencer was curled up at his end of the sofa, his knees drawn up to his chest as he took another sip of his wine. The remains of their ice cream was slowly melting on the coffee table.

 

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

 

“Tell me a bit about yourself,” Aaron asked, shifting in his seat so that he was facing Spencer, his knee brushing against Spencer’s toes.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Basic stuff. Where are you from?”

 

“Las Vegas.”

 

“Really?” Aaron asked with a surprised smile.

 

“Yeah, Sin City itself. That sounds terrible since, you know, you’re a priest and all.”

 

Aaron chewed his lip, biting back the comment about Spencer corrupting him. This was just dinner and even if there was a grain of truth to that, it wasn’t Spencer’s fault. Aaron had been blessed with free will and he had made the choice to glimpse down a path that some might call sinful. If he decided to walk it, the guilt would rest squarely on his shoulders. “How old are you?”

 

“Ah, I’m twenty-seven.”

 

“You’re twenty-seven!” Aaron exclaimed, shifting slightly further away from Spencer and running a palm over his face. “I thought you were older. You’re a doctor.”

 

“Um, I have three PhDs, yes, and two further degrees.” Spencer was glaring at the contents of his wineglass now. “I may be relatively young but I’ve spent most of my life competing with people considerably older than me. I was forced to grow up and mature very fast.”

 

“I don’t doubt that,” Aaron sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees, his beer hanging loosely between his clasped hands. “It’s just, I’m forty-two. Maybe you didn’t realize that.”

 

Spencer shrugged. “It’s just a number, Aaron.”

 

Aaron kept looking at the ground. It was only his second beer but he knew he wouldn’t be able to say this without the soft buzz of alcohol. “I guess if you took me to bed, you’d be a lot more experienced than me.”

 

He heard Spencer inhale sharply before he spoke with an even voice. “If I took you to bed, it would only be when you were ready and told me that you wanted to do that.”

 

“But I wouldn’t know what to do,” Aaron admitted. “I’ve never – you should know that I’m a virgin.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Totally. I’ve never touched or been touched by another person.” Aaron felt Spencer squirm on the sofa next to him and he couldn’t help but look over. The younger man’s cheeks were tinged pink and his breathing had picked up slightly. Aaron’s eyebrows rose. “Does that turn you on?”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer mumbled. “Give me moment.” Spencer made to get up off the sofa but Aaron stopped him with a hand around his slim ankle.

 

“I might not ever be ready for that. My vocation is important to me. I like you and I’m very attracted to you but I don’t know if that’s enough.”

 

“I’ve never wanted anything from you, Aaron. Other than perhaps friendship. Yes, you are incredibly sexy. You don’t even realize it the way you sit there with your lips all bitten red, talking about how pure you are. It’s arousing but I can put that to the side if it means getting to spend time with you. I like you.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron unconsciously rubbing a circle on Spencer’s ankle bone.

 

“But you are not making it easy, looking like that and doing that thing with your thumb.”

 

“Sorry,” Aaron smiled and removed his hand.

 

“Don’t be. This is whatever you want it to be. I don’t have anything to lose and everything to gain even if that’s just a new friend.”

 

“And if I decided I did want more?”

 

“I’ll be here waiting.”

 

Aaron glanced down at his wristwatch, surprised at how much time had passed. He should probably get back to the church or David would moan about not getting his beauty sleep. “I should go.”

 

“Can I give you a lift home?”

 

“No, it’s okay. Father Rossi lent me his car for the evening.”

 

“I’ll walk you down then.” Spencer stood, collecting his glass and Aaron’s bottle and depositing them in the kitchen before shoving on a battered pair of All Stars. Aaron hovered uncertainly by the doorway. All evening he’d thought about pressing his lips to Spencer’s full pout but no matter how much his desire was torturing him, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Spencer smiled at him, his eyebrow raised in a subtle question but Aaron just shrugged and followed him out into the hallway. Down on the street, he shrugged into his jacket against the biting cold in the air. Spencer shivered in just his shirt sleeves.

 

“You can go back up,” Aaron said, taking pity on the young man as they walked down the block but Spencer had stopped dead next to David’s car.

 

“This is Father Rossi’s car?” Spencer asked in shock, staring at the sleek red curves in front of him.

 

“Ridiculous, I know.”

 

“She’s beautiful,” Spencer breathed.

 

“Of course, your car’s a classic too.”

 

“Yeah and I love her but this is a thing of beauty. She must be worth a fortune.”

 

“It belonged to David’s father. David worked on it himself.” He watched as Spencer ran a reverential hand over the bonnet, cooing softly to the cold metal. “Should I give you a minute alone?” he asked with a smirk.

 

Spencer blushed but smiled. “I think my Amazon would get jealous.” He nodded to his car parked slightly up the road. “Thank you for coming, Aaron. I enjoyed this.”

 

“Me too. I’d like to do it again, please.” Aaron asked, shifting nervously on his feet.

 

“Yes. Anytime. Really.” Spencer’s smile was so breathtakingly beautiful that Aaron acted on impulse and surged forward, pressing a small kiss to the other man’s cheek before darting backwards again, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. Spencer looked slightly shocked but his smile hadn’t dimmed at all, if anything he looked wonderfully dazed.

 

“Good night, Spencer.”

 

“Night, Aaron.” Spencer stepped back and allowed Aaron to squish himself back into the tiny driver’s seat and drive off. As Aaron looked in the rear view mirror, he saw Spencer raise his fingers to his cheek and gently caress the spot that Aaron had just kissed. He felt his own face split into a grin that lasted all the way back to the church.

 

“So, you look happy. How was your evening?” David asked as Aaron stepped back into the church, already holding out his hand for the keys.

 

“Wonderful,” Aaron replied honestly, shoving his hands into his back pockets.

 

“Still a virgin?” David asked clapping Aaron on the shoulder.

 

“Yes. Honestly, David, who let you into the clergy?”

 

“Eh, it was a slow year. I just figured in that outfit he wouldn’t be able to resist jumping you.”

 

“What is it with my outfit and all the comments?”

 

“Aaron, as a heterosexual male who hasn’t had sex in over three decades, I can honestly say that you look very fuckable.” Aaron almost choked on nothing. “The T-shirt clings to all those muscles from your ludicrous runs and those jeans look like they were tailor-made to highlight your assets. Don’t even get me started on the hole in the back pocket and I may know that those knees are worn from hours in a pew but a lesser man might get different ideas.” Aaron did choke now until David slapped him on the back with a grim look. “Well, at least I’m assured that this Spencer is a principled young man. Good night, Aaron.”

 

Aaron waved over his shoulder and staggered into his living quarters, closing the door behind him. If someone was desperate for a meeting, they would know to knock on the door. This night had been a whirlwind on emotions from the giddy heights of elation to the depths of gut wrenching anxiety. He needed a moment to process. In the bathroom, he looked at himself and his outfit with a critical eye, seeing what Spencer must have seen when he opened the door. Oh, well, yes, I guess fuckable probably is the correct word, Aaron winced, rubbing the back of his neck. Now he just had to figure out if that was really the look he was going for and, if so, what that meant for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in such deep denial about TG getting fired.


	6. Conversations

Spencer couldn’t help but grin when he saw the name on his phone. He looked around the bullpen. Emily and Elle were deep in conversation, Elle perched on the edge of Emily’s desk, and Morgan was nowhere to be seen so he figured it was safe to answer, though for all he knew Garcia had their phones bugged to automatically alert her to conversations of a romantic persuasion. He shuddered at the thought. “Hi,” and kept his voice low just in case.

 

“Hi,” Aaron whispered back and Spencer could hear the smile in his voice, he could imagine those wonderful dimples.

 

“Hey, you hardly ever call me.”

 

“I know. You said I could so I figured I better take advantage of the offer. How are you?”

 

“Great, you?”

 

“Yeah, good. Why are we whispering?”

 

Spencer laughed softly, “I’m at work so I’m creating the illusion of privacy.”

 

“Ah. I enjoyed last night.”

 

“I’m glad. Me too.” Spencer nibbled nervously on his lip before voicing what had been running around his mind ever since Aaron left. “You kissed me.”

 

“Only on the cheek. Was it okay?”

 

“Very much okay. I just wanted to check that you were okay. That you thought it was okay.”

 

“I was very okay with it. So I’m guessing that we’re okay?”

 

Spencer chuckled, his whole body feeling warm and light. “Can I see you again?”

 

“I’d like that. Are you going to be in town this week?”

 

“So far I think so but we could be called at any time.”

 

“I know. The church is running a few evening events this week so I won’t be free until Sunday evening. Would that work for you?”

 

“Sunday would be great. I’ll see you in the morning anyway.”

 

“You’re still going to come to mass?”

 

“Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“No not at all. I just didn’t think you’d be interested, you know, since you can see me at other times now.”

 

Spencer grinned, unable to stop his voice taking on a teasing lilt, “Why, Aaron, did you think I only came to see you?”

 

“No. Well, yes. I just – you don’t believe in God.” Spencer laughed at how flustered the other man sounded.

 

“I’ll admit that you are the main draw but I actually enjoy the service. I mean, I prefer your voice but both you and Father Rossi give very interesting homilies. You’re both unconventional in your own way.”

 

“Yes, I guess dating does make me a somewhat unconventional priest,” Aaron deadpanned.

 

“Are we dating?” The question tumbled out of Spencer’s mouth in surprise.

 

“No,” Aaron quickly refuted, sounding somewhat panicked. “Of course not.”

 

Spencer curled further around his phone. “Do you want us to be dating?”

 

“Do you?” Aaron fired back and Spencer could heard the undercurrent of nervousness that seemed to hum through the phone line.

 

“Very much so.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Only if you’re interested. Even if you didn’t mean to say that we are, you should know that I have no interest in seeing anyone else.”

 

“Oh,” Aaron repeated again, sounding slightly breathless. “If we were dating, you should know that we’d probably move very slowly, you know, with things.”

 

“Yes,” Spencer nodded but again he couldn’t resist teasing just a little. “If you can’t even say it, we probably shouldn’t be doing it.”

 

“Spencer,” Aaron sighed exasperatedly. “I mean it.”

 

“I know,” Spencer assured him warmly. “Even if you hadn’t kissed me last night, it would have been a perfect night in my opinion. I don’t want anything that you aren’t willing to give.” Spencer looked furtively over his shoulder, feeling someone’s eyes on him but Elle and Emily were still talking, heads close together. “We can talk about this more when I’m not surrounded by my co-workers.”

 

“Of course. Have a good day, Spencer.”

 

“You too, Aaron.” Spencer ended the call and suddenly felt his phone yanked out his hand. “Hey!” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.

 

“Who were you talking to, Reid?” Emily asked, a broad grin on her face.

 

“I’m not telling you.” He folded his arms over his chest before glaring at Elle who was holding his phone. “And you’ll never guess my passcode.”

 

“3141,” Elle mumbled, scrolling to the last number called.

 

“How did you –“ Spencer spluttered.

 

“Father Aaron Hotchner,” Elle exclaimed and Emily inhaled a sharp breath. Both women exchanged a glance and then stepped forward to bodily haul Spencer from his seat and frogmarch him down the corridor into a currently unoccupied office.

 

“Spencer,” Emily rounded on him and Spencer stumbled back into a creaky, dusty chair at the disapproval in her eyes. “Are you sleeping with a priest? Is this why you suddenly went to church?”

 

“No,” Spencer protested.

 

“We caught you,” Elle reminded, waving his phone. Spencer made a half-hearted attempt to reach it for it before falling back into his chair when she just danced out of his reach. “And we heard you.”

 

“That was a private conversation,” Spencer grumbled, pouting.

 

“So, in the light of the evidence against you. Do you want to re-think your answer?”

 

“No. I am not sleeping with Aaron and, anyway, it is none of your business.”

 

“Look, Reid,” Elle continued, “I know you weren’t raised Catholic but you must know that priests are off-limits. What you’re doing is wrong and could cost Father Hotchner his career.”

 

“I’m not taking advantage of him,” Spencer glared at them. “Do you really think so little of me?”

 

“No, of course not,” Emily protested. “We just –“

 

“You just what? He’s not a child. So far, he has been the one taking the initiative. Yes, I admitted to him that I was attracted to him but I honestly expected never to see him again after that. I just wanted him to know why I had cut off contact. But then he called me. He asked me out to dinner and that’s it. He came to mine. We ate. He went home. That’s all. We’re friends.”

 

“On the phone, you said you were dating,” Elle persevered.

 

“He said we were dating.” Spencer refuted.

 

“You want to date him.”

 

“Of course I want to date him. He looks like sex personified and he’s sweet, caring, considerate, a good listener.”

 

“You are so far gone on him,” Emily murmured, sinking down into another abandoned chair, a cloud of dust puffing up from the cracked leather seat.

 

“He’s a wonderful man,” Spencer answered defensively.

 

“A wonderful priest you mean,” Elle countered.

 

“What do you want from me?” Spencer sighed, forcing himself into a more relaxed posture in an attempt to bring this conversation to some kind of resolution.

 

“You’re going to get hurt, Spencer, or you’re going to get him hurt,” Emily pleaded, placing one hand on Spencer’s forearm.

 

“Emily, with all due respect, you don’t know that.”

 

Elle snorted in contempt. “Of course she does. You’re playing with fire, Reid. You know how that ends.”

 

Spencer just glared at her until she threw his phone at him and stormed out the room. Emily leaned back in her chair, spinning gently from side to side. “You’ve seemed a lot happier recently,” she mused, never once taking her eyes from Spencer. “I’m guessing it has something to do with this Aaron, right?”

 

Spencer shrugged, “Probably. He really is amazing, Em.”

 

“He’d have to be to snag a man like you.” Spencer smiled softly at her. “Is he worth it, Spencer? I mean really worth it. Elle’s being a bit aggressive about this – what isn’t she aggressive about – but she is right. This relationship has the potential to blow up in your face.”

 

“I think you two are getting a bit carried away. It really was just dinner.”

 

“He’s a priest. If he wasn’t thinking seriously about this thing you’ve got going he wouldn’t have come to ‘just dinner’” Spencer grimaced at the use of air quotes. “Was he wearing his collar?”

 

Spencer frowned, “No, jeans and a T-shirt.”

 

“He’s thinking about this very seriously.”

 

“You get that from an outfit.”

 

“Spencer. The man probably wears the same thing all day, 365 days a year. He changed his clothes to go to dinner with you. Possibly, he needed a bit of distance from his profession as well.”

 

“I guess,” Spencer chewed on his lip. “I really like him, Em. I can talk to him about anything. I’ve never had that before.”

 

“I’m glad you’ve got that. You really needed that.” Emily stood, looking over shoulder at her ass and frowning at the layer of dust coating her black slacks. “Though, you know I’d listen to anything you had to say.”

 

“I’m starting to realize that.” Spencer smiled.

 

“Elle is going to be a bitch about this. Her Dad was really religious. Trust me when I say Daddy issues can really affect a girl. Plus, she has a major crush on you.”

 

Spencer’s mouth flapped open and shut uselessly before he managed, “But I’m gay.”

 

“Yeah, I realize that now. She will too but, you know what she’s like, she’ll make your life hell for a few weeks. Don’t let it get to you.” Emily offered him a sympathetic smile before leaving him alone.

 

Spencer slumped back down into the chair. Great, more bullying was just what he needed in his life. He had thought that Elle was his friend. Hell, he’d been there for her after the whole Garner thing. He’d had her back when everyone said that her actions on the William Lee case should lead to her termination from the Bureau. He’d never once suspected a romantic interest but he hadn’t been looking for one. Not like he was with Aaron. Elle and Emily were right. This relationship was reckless and dangerous, more so on Aaron’s part, but Spencer’s truly believed that it was worth it.

 

*****

 

Spencer should have known better than to make plans so far in advance with his job but they were on the home stretch he was feeling ridiculously optimistic about actually managing to keep this second date, and he was definitely referring to this as a date now. He’d barely spoken to Aaron all week between their work commitments and Spencer trying to meet a deadline on an article for a physics journal so his Sunday night would be blissfully free of distractions but it was Friday afternoon. He could practically taste the weekend with its promise of another date with Aaron when some asshole in Montana had to go and blow himself up. JJ’s face was grim and Ryan only gave them thirty minutes to gather their things and get to the airstrip. As soon as he was leaving the conference room, Spencer had his phone in his hand. By the time he reached his desk, Aaron had answered. “Hi,” Spencer tried to keep the disappointment out his voice but clearly failed.

 

“Where are you going?” At least Aaron didn’t sound too upset or angry.

 

“That obvious,” Spencer sighed. “Montana. Three women were abducted and murdered. A fourth is still missing and the prime suspect just blew himself up.”

 

Aaron whistled low. “Sounds bad. Call me if you can. I’ll be here when you get back.”

 

“Thanks, Aaron.” Elle groaned next to him, rolling her eyes.

 

“Stay safe.”

 

“Bye.” Spencer hung up the phone and glared at his friend. “What?”

 

“You know I don’t approve,” Elle sniffed contemptuously.

 

“And you know I don’t care,” Spencer threw back, swinging his satchel over his head and snatching his go-bag up with more force than was strictly necessary, smacking Morgan in the stomach with it as he passed.

 

“Hey,” Morgan complained, rubbing his abs. “What did I do?”

 

“Not everything is about you, Derek,” Elle snapped.

 

“Ok, whoa there you two.” Morgan held his hands up in surrender. “I am not getting in the middle of this lover’s spat.”

 

“If Reid was sleeping with me, there wouldn’t be an issue.” Elle sneered.

 

“That’ll be a cold day in hell,” Spencer retorted. He liked Elle, she was his friend but he was starting to feel that this was about more than just his choice of partner. It was starting to feel like an attack on his sexuality. Maybe Emily was right about Elle being attracted to him but this was just being cruel. He’d thought he’d left this behind in high school.

 

“Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you since that’s where you’re heading, Reid.”

 

“Hey! Hey! Stop that now,” Morgan jumped in. “I don’t know what’s eating you Greenaway but get a grip.” Elle looked like she was going to say more but thought better of it when Max Ryan appeared on the gangway, looking down at their confrontation. Her jaw snapped shut with an audible click and she turned on her heel, the glass doors of the BAU shaking ominously as she slammed them behind her.

 

“Do I want to know what that was about?” Ryan drawled, sounding disinterested but his eyes were sharp, calculating.

 

“It was unrelated to the job,” Spencer mumbled, turning to gather up the case files from his desk.

 

“Well, let’s keep it that way.” Ryan followed Elle out of the doors while Morgan lingered.

 

“You okay, kid.”

 

“I’m fine, Morgan.”

 

“What’d I miss?” Emily asked appearing from the direction of the bathrooms and hurriedly shoving whatever was on her desk into her purse.

 

“Elle threw a fit,” Morgan supplied as the three started walking towards the elevators. JJ joining them as she left her office.

 

“Oh,” Emily chewed on her lip, “was it about you know?”

 

“Yeah,” Spencer admitted, hammering on the call button for the elevator in lieu of snapping at his friends who didn’t deserve it.

 

“I don’t know,” Morgan perked up at the possibility of gossip.

 

“Me neither,” JJ added, unable to hide her interest.

 

“It’s need to know,” Spencer grumbled. “None of you need to know.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Morgan held up his hands as they all entered the elevator but as the doors slid shut he added, “but when do we get to meet him?”

 

“Oh!” JJ bounced a little. “Spencer’s got a boyfriend. What’s he like?”

 

“I am telling you nothing,” Spencer crossed his arms over his chest.

 

JJ was unfazed and turned to her best friend. “Have you met him Em?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“But you know stuff?” Morgan turned on her, effectively blocking Spencer out of the conversation but he was still able to glare at Emily over JJ’s head.

 

“Not a lot. He wears a lot of black.”

 

“You’re dating a goth?” JJ looked at Spencer in surprise.

 

Spencer jumped on the opening, suddenly remembering something he had glimpsed on Garcia’s computer last time he’d been to her office. “Hey, you know Garcia’s got hold of Emily’s senior picture. Full on goth.”

 

“No way!” Morgan and JJ turned back to Emily, the distraction in full effect.

 

“Fuck you, Reid,” Emily groused.

 

Morgan pulled out his phone as they stepped into the parking garage. “Hey Baby Girl, my sweetness. What’s this I hear about you having a picture of our very own Emily Prentiss Princess of Darkness? You do. Huh, think you could send it to my tablet. Oh Baby, name your price and I will gladly pay up for you.” Spencer let their flirtations fade into the background as he pulled out his phone. Elle was really getting to him and all he wanted to do was call Aaron but that was what had started the problem in the first place. Instead he chewed at his lip and composed a text but nothing seemed right. I miss you seemed too personal. I wish I was on my way to you too obvious. My friends are teasing me too high school. Sighing in exasperation, Spencer put his phone back in his pocket and jumped into the back of the SUV, mind refocusing on the case and the hope that they would get to the missing woman in time.

 

*****

 

Three days later, Spencer walked into the church with the dust from Montana still clinging to his skin. He’d fully intended to call Aaron while he was away but the case had moved so quickly and whenever he had a moment to breath it seemed like he was surrounded by the team. They’d also had to double up at the hotel and he wasn’t sure how Morgan would react if Spencer let it slip that he was sort of dating a priest. He knew his friend had a complicated, somewhat contentious relationship with religion but he hadn’t been expecting Elle’s reaction and he had no wish to alienate anyone else. The door creaked open at his touch and he was hit with the now familiar smells of wood polish and burning candles. Everything was seemingly quiet but he caught movement at the front of the church behind the altar and felt himself finally relax, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth as he moved forward quickly between the pews. “Aaron?” he spoke, peeking over the edge of the table. There was a dull thud and a cut off expletive before Father Rossi appeared, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Sorry, Father Hotchner is away on family business.” The older man looked up and recognition dawned on his features. “You must be Spencer.”

 

“Oh um yes. Sorry to bother you, sir – father. Um, I was expecting Father Hotchner. But you knew that since I said his name. So I’ll just go. Sorry, again.” Spencer spun on his heel and began to hurry out the church but Father Rossi’s voice arrested his flight.

 

“Don’t worry about it, kid, but don’t run off. I’ve actually been hoping for a chance to talk to you. Come in the back.” Father Rossi’s body language was warm as he stood, his arms loose by his sides, but his tone suggested that disagreeing wasn’t an option. Spencer twisted his fingers and looked to the sides for an escape route. “Come on.” The priest strode in the direction of Aaron’s apartment and Spencer didn’t see any choice but to follow, bracing himself for a diatribe against his corruption of a good man. “Would you like a drink?” Rossi asked, closing the door behind Spencer with a click and gesturing for him to sit. “Coffee? Tea? Aaron always keeps some good whiskey around if you want something stronger.”

 

“Um,” Spencer searched for the trap in the question. “Coffee?”

 

“Don’t sound so nervous, kid. Sit down. I just want to talk to you, that’s all.”

 

“Where’s Aaron, um, Father Hotchner? Is he okay?”

 

“He’s fine. He had to go to New York but that’s his story to tell, not mine.” Father Rossi paused as he reached for a mug from the top shelf of a kitchen clearly used by a much taller man. “So, Aaron seemed pretty happy when he got back from your date last week. Conflicted but happy.” Father Rossi’s back was to Spencer where he sat perched on the edge of the sofa but he still bristled at the statement and the too casual manner in which it was delivered.

 

“It wasn’t a date,” Spencer snapped.

 

“Sure thing, kid.” The priest turned. “Milk? Sugar?”

 

“Both. Four teaspoons.” Father Rossi chuckled but made the coffee as requested and placed it on the small table next to Neil Gaiman’s _American Gods_. “He’s a good looking boy, isn’t he?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Aaron. He looked particularly good last week.”

 

“Are you interested?” Spencer asked perplexed, entirely unsure of where this was going.

 

“No,” Father Rossi laughed. “Even if I wasn’t celibate, I wouldn’t be interested. I’ve always imagined that in another life I’d have a string of ex-wives and a lot more money. Sadly, spreading the word of God isn’t particularly lucrative.” Tell that to the Vatican, Spencer thought to himself but bit his tongue and waited for the priest to continue. “Still, I’m not the subject here. He doesn’t know it, you know. He has no idea how good he looks even though half the single women, and I guess men, in the congregation come just to see him.”

 

“Yes, I, um, I realized that.” Spencer swallowed heavily at the memory of first seeing Aaron on his doorstep in those sinfully tight jeans that were worn in all the right places, the T-shirt that looked soft but clung to his musculature and that leather jacket. A priest had no business wearing a leather jacket and looking like he had just stepped off the cover of some sexy motorcycle special of GQ.

 

“Aaron said that you didn’t make a move on him.”

 

“I’m not a predator.”

 

“No, but what are you?”

 

“Well, I guess Aaron already told you that I’m an addict,” Spencer drawled with fake nonchalance but quickly regretted his throwaway statement when the priest’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “He didn’t tell you that, did he?”

 

“No. Anything that you told him in the confessional, he would treat as a confession that was for God’s ears only. He only told me that you admitted an attraction to him and sketchy details about your work. The rest of our conversations have been about his feelings towards you.” Father Rossi frowned at Spencer as he gave in to the compulsion to scratch at his inner elbow. “Heroin?”

 

“Dilaudid,” Spencer admitted. “I’m clean. I have been for over a year.”

 

“Congratulations,” Father Rossi smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes which seemed to be mulling over a distant problem. Visibly shaking himself, he focused on Spencer again, who wrapped his hands around his mug of coffee for something to do. “I suppose that this is the point where I ask you about your intentions towards Aaron. You must realize that this is a rather complicated situation.”

 

Spencer nodded. “Honestly, I don’t have intentions towards him.”

 

“You like him.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You are, I presume, sexually active.”

 

“I have been in the past. At the moment, I’m not seeing anyone.”

 

“Other than Aaron.”

 

“I’m not sleeping with Aaron.”

 

“But you would.”

 

“If and when he expressed a desire then, yes, I probably would.” Spencer admitted.

 

“It would end his career.”

 

“It’s not unheard of for a priest to have a lover, even a male lover.”

 

“Yes, but it is against the rules. Aaron will bend the rules but he’d never break them.”

 

“I’m not going to force him in to anything, Father Rossi. I’ve told Aaron that I’m happy to just be his friend but if he decides that he wants more than that –“ Spencer trailed off, feeling that his meaning was understood.

 

Father Rossi stared at him for a long time and Spencer had the uncomfortable feeling that his soul was been weighed and found wanting. Finally, the priest sighed. “I like you, kid. I didn’t want to and you’re not what I expected but I like you.”

 

“Um, thank you?” Father Rossi waved off Spencer’s gratitude. “Can I go now?”

 

Father Rossi laughed and leaned back in his chair. “At least finish your coffee and, I’ll be honest, you look like you could use someone to talk to.”

 

Spencer bit his lip nervously but didn’t see a way to leave without being rude and upsetting Aaron’s friend wouldn’t be exactly politic. “I just got back from a case.”

 

“Aaron said you work for the FBI.”

 

“The BAU. It’s the –“

 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit. I’m aware of it. I had an acquaintance who worked there, though that was a long time ago. It was called the BSU back then. Tough job that one. Getting into the minds of these people can be detrimental to your own psyche.” Spencer shrugged. “Where was the case?”

 

“Montana.”

 

“Ah. Bad one?”

 

“Weird one. By the time we got there almost everyone was already dead. Three women dead. One killer dead. I mean we’re always playing catch up but sometimes it feels like every case we fly out on everyone is always already dead. It’s like every case is Schrodinger’s cat and we’re the ones who open the box to show voila” Spencer gestured slightly wildly with his hands and his coffee sloshed over the rim, “the cat is dead.”

 

Rossi grimaced at Spencer’s dark attempt at humour, recognising the deflection for what it was. “So if they were already dead how come you were called out? Seems like it was open and shut.”

 

“Ah, there was a fourth missing woman and a partner. She’s dead. He’s dead. They’re all dead.”

 

“Sounds like you take it pretty hard, kid.”

 

“Death should be easy?”

 

“’And I heard a voice from heaven saying, “Write this: Blessed are the dead who from now on die in the Lord.” “Yes,” says the Spirit, “they will rest from their labours, for their deeds follow them.’”

 

“Revelation 14:13.”

 

Rossi chuckled. “Aaron mentioned that you were good with scripture.”

 

“Did he also mention that I think it’s a load of bullshit?”

 

Rossi laughed out loud even as Spencer mumbled an apology. “I really like you. There aren’t many men who would say something like that to a priest. Don’t apologize. How about this one: But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the polluted, the murderers, the fornicators, the sorcerers, the idolaters, and all liars, their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

 

“Revelation 21:8. Slightly more comforting. I like the idea of the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

 

“Matthew 13:50. I agree with you. Sometimes consolation can only come from God’s red right hand.”

 

“Should intermitted vengeance arm again/ His red right hand to plague us?” Spencer murmured, his fingers tapping a pattern over the thick material of his suit pants.

 

“Ah, you have an eidetic memory,” Father Rossi’s eyes lit up with interest.

 

“Yes. My gestures help me organize the data in my mind.”

 

“So you’re a genius?”

 

“I don’t actually believe that intelligence can be quantified in hard numbers.”

 

“What’s your IQ, kid? You’re prevaricating.”

 

“You’re using ten dollar words where a one dollar word would do.” Rossi just raised an eyebrow and Spencer sighed in exasperation. “187.”

 

“Degrees?”

 

“Three PhDs in Chemistry, Physics, and Engineering. Another couple of degrees in psychology and philosophy.”

 

“Ever considered theology?”

 

Spencer pulled a face. “You’re not going to make a priest out of me, Father Rossi. I’ve had enough people in my life moulding me into their image.”

 

Father Rossi held his hands up in defence. “I wasn’t thinking that. I just think you’d enjoy it. Clearly, you love literature even if you have no degrees in it and what is the bible other than the bestselling book of all time.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s a bitch trying to get hold of a signed copy,” Spencer muttered.

 

Father Rossi laughed again, slapping Spencer hard on the shoulder. “Ah, you know what? You’ll be good for Aaron. There we go. You get my blessing.”

 

“Aren’t you meant to do some kind of hand thing with that?” Spencer frowned, unsure exactly what was going on. Father Rossi was nothing like what he had expected. Sure, he realized from the masses that he had attended that the priests at this particular church were unorthodox but this whole conversation had really knocked him for a loop. He could see now why Aaron had confided in Father Rossi without fear of rebuke.

 

“Kid, I’m telling you that you can schtup my friend. That one definitely doesn’t carry the power of God behind it.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know if we’ll ever get to that point but thank you, I guess. Do you know when Aaron will be back?”

 

“No idea. It’s a complicated matter.”

“Church related?”

 

“Don’t interrogate me, Mr. FBI. Talk to Aaron when he gets back. Have you finished your coffee?”

 

“Um, yes?” Spencer showed Father Rossi his empty mug.

 

“Then you can go.”

 

“Oh, okay, great.” Spencer stood quickly before hesitating. “Thank you, Father Rossi.”

 

“You’re welcome, kid. Treat him well.” Spencer hurried out of the church and back to his car with Father Rossi’s words ringing in his ears and a smile on his face. He couldn’t wait for Aaron to get back from whatever he was doing in New York. It had been far too long since he’d seen the other man and it felt like their relationship was being discussed with everyone they knew without them actually finding any time to have the relationship. He considered calling Aaron but it sounded like the other man was dealing with something important. Father Rossi may not have told him any details but the deep frown lines on his brow when he mentioned it spoke volumes.

 

So, Spencer went home, shovelled some questionable leftovers into his mouth, and threw himself onto his sofa with a book feeling more than a little lost and unable to keep from glancing at his phone every few minutes when suddenly it rang, screen flashing blue as it danced on the smooth surface of the coffee table. When he saw Aaron’s name, a broad grin stretched across his face but it fell as soon as Aaron spoke.

 

“Spencer, are you home?” Aaron’s voice sounded worn thin, his question an urgent plea as soon as the phone was answered.

 

“Yes. What’s wrong?”

 

“Can I come in?”

 

“Come in? Are you downstairs?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, okay, sure. I’ll buzz you in.” Still on the phone, Spencer hurried over to the intercom and pressed the button to unlock the front door. Opening his door, he heard the door slam and footsteps trudging slowly up the stairs. Even though he knew Aaron was on his way up, Spencer found himself unable to hang up the phone. “Are you okay?”

 

“Thank you for letting me in,” Aaron’s voice echoed through the stairwell even as Spencer heard him through the phone. “I’m sorry to impose.”

 

“You’re not imposing,” Spencer finally dropped the phone and addressed that to the man in front of him, looking cold and lost. Aaron was bundled up in a puffy black down jacket but his cheeks and nose were burned red from the icy wind outside. “Come in.”

 

Aaron sighed heavily and followed Spencer through his door into the living room, dropping a heavy duffle bag with a thud, and then standing looking confused. Spencer stepped forward, holding a hand out patiently for Aaron’s coat. When the other man made no move to remove it, Spencer stepped in closer and gripped his arm, shaking him slightly. Slowly, Aaron turned to him as if he had forgotten he was there at all. Chewing on his lip anxiously, Spencer inclined his head, one hand reaching up to tug on the zipper and Aaron finally shrugged out of his coat. “I went to the church this evening. Father Rossi told me you’d gone to New York,” Spencer called over his shoulder as he hung Aaron’s jacket up near the door.

 

“Do you have anything to drink?” Aaron asked. Spencer took in the sight of him in that fluffy looking fleece and wanted to wrap his arms around the other man, nuzzle his cheek against those broad shoulders. “Whiskey, maybe?”

 

“Sure. Scotch or Irish? I’ve got Glenmorangie or Jameson.”

 

“Jameson, please.”

 

“Sit down, Aaron, before you fall down.” Aaron collapsed onto the couch as if his strings had been cut, cradling his head in his hands. Pausing for a moment in the doorway to the kitchen, Spencer looked at him. His stomach was in knots trying to figure out what had upset Aaron so terribly. He guessed it didn’t have anything to do with work so maybe family. Realizing that playing a guessing game on next to no information would do him no good, Spencer hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the top of his cabinet. He only had one tumbler, so he poured his own measure into a mug and carried both back into the living room, snagging the bottle as an afterthought.

 

“Thank you,” Aaron murmured when Spencer nudged him with the glass, settling near him on the couch. “Sorry to just appear. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

 

“I already said I don’t mind.” Spencer watched Aaron down the glass and pour himself a much larger measure with a determined look. He sipped at his own drink before clearing his throat, “What happened?”

 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Aaron downed his next drink as well, rolling the tumbler between his hands and clearly contemplating pouring another.

 

Spencer laid a hand on his wrist. “You can keep drinking if you want. I mean, I’ve got no right to lecture about healthy coping strategies but you came to me so, even if you don’t want to talk, is there anything I can do to help?”

 

“Anything?” Aaron turned his gaze on Spencer, eyes slightly glazed.

 

“Anything,” Spencer assured him, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he realized that Aaron’s gaze was trained on his lips. “Aaron –“ his warning trailed off as he watched Aaron’s tongue dart out to wet the other man’s thin lips. He was about to move away when suddenly Aaron reached out, fingers carding into Spencer’s hair as his head was steadied and Aaron’s lips were pressed to his own. Spencer’s eyes shot open even as he unconsciously responded to the kiss, tilting his head further and clutching at Aaron’s waist with one desperate hand. The jumper was just as soft as he imagined. When Aaron’s tongue darted out, pushing insistently against Spencer’s lips, he pulled back enough to gasp words into the space between them. “Aaron,” Spencer pushed against Aaron’s shoulder lightly, and then more urgently as the other man didn’t stop his uncoordinated onslaught against his lips. “Aaron. Stop. Stop.”

 

“Why?” Aaron drew back, his eyes shining with hurt. “You want this. Don’t you?”

 

“Yes. No. Not like this. You’ll regret this in the morning.”

 

“I won’t,” Aaron attempted to reassure Spencer but he could feel that Aaron’s hands were shaking as they slipped against his sleeves and inexpertly pawed at his tie.

 

Spencer moved backwards, catching those hands and holding them between his own. Aaron’s fingers were still cold from the winter wind outside and Spencer rubbed them gently. “You will and I don’t want that. If we do this now, it will destroy anything we could have been. Friends or lovers. I’ll lose you if I let you do this now.”

 

“What does it matter?” Aaron asked, sounding slightly desperate. “We barely know each other.”

 

“And I want time to get to know you better. Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“Spencer,” Aaron’s voice was hard, his glare impressively intimidating for such a gentle man, “I didn’t come here to talk.”

 

“What?” Spencer asked, his own tone growing callous as he tried to get Aaron to snap out of it. “You came here for a quick fuck. That sounds just like you, Father.”

 

“Don’t call me that. Not like that.”

 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’ve been a naughty boy.” Spencer continued harshly until Aaron pushed away from him. “Come on, Aaron, isn’t that what you wanted?”

 

“Is that what you want, Spencer? Role play with a real priest.” Aaron sounded genuinely appalled, his eyes wide.

 

“You know it’s not and I know it’s not what you want. So, let’s get to the point. Tell me what’s wrong. What happened in New York?” Spencer softened his tone, edging back towards Aaron.

 

“I’m sick of doing the right thing, of being the good son. I want to do something for myself. I want to do something that will feel good.” Aaron’s shoulders slumped and he pulled his hands out of Spencer’s grasp and back into his own lap.

 

“Aaron, why were you in New York?” Spencer pushed gently, wrapping one arm loosely around Aaron’s shoulders. Aaron shook his head and buried his head in his hands again. “Please.”

 

The silence hung thick and heavy between them and Spencer was sure that Aaron wasn’t going to answer until the other man drew in a deep breath and spoke slowly, quietly, his words muffled behind his hands. “My brother. Sean. He’s in trouble, again, and this time I can’t do anything for him. He had – he has a drug problem. Cocaine, mainly, I think. It’s been an issue since he was a kid. He’s younger than me by about ten years and he looks just like my father. Blond. Tall. Handsome. Father loved him. Doted on him. Mother gave him everything he ever wanted. He’s never suffered a day in his life.” Aaron’s voice grew louder, tinged with jealousy and anger. “And what has he done with it? Screwed his life away. Snorted it all up his nose. He went to college and dropped out. He started a business and lost it. He went to culinary school and flunked. He’s been arrested for possession multiple times since mother and father died and I bailed him out every time but this time –“ Aaron’s voice broke, his anger dying as quickly as it flared, “this time I can’t help him.”

 

“What happened?” Spencer prompted, shifting his hand to rub soothing circles on Aaron’s back.

 

“He’s been working as a bartender at some trendy club in New York but his habit is expensive.”

 

“I’m familiar with the issue,” Spencer mumbled.

 

“So he stole some bottles of something. I don’t know what. Something worth selling. But it turns out they’d been spiked with something. I don’t know what but it’s bad. I don’t even know why someone would do that but the police thinks it’s linked to something bigger. They don’t think Sean’s a part of that anymore, at least. But two of the people he sold the tainted bottles to died and it was traced back to him. He didn’t kill them intentionally but he was responsible, in a way. He’s going to prison this time. My baby brother is going to prison.” Aaron started to sob, gulping painful breaths wracking his body. Spencer wrapped his arms around the older man, stroking his hair and letting him cry himself out on his shoulder. Eventually, Aaron was hiccoughing softly and mumbling embarrassed words into Spencer’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t apologize, Aaron. I’m glad you came here.”

 

“I should go home now,” Aaron pushed back a little.

 

“I missed you,” Spencer blurted out, cupping Aaron’s face with one hand, brushing away the tear tracks.

 

“I missed you too,” Aaron whispered, leaning in to Spencer’s palm with a sigh. “We’ve barely spoken this week and now I fall on your doorstep and cry all over you.”

 

“Well, first time we met I dripped all over you confessional and fell asleep. You’re still keeping it classy.” Aaron smiled softly. “Do you want to go home? I mean, I can sleep on the sofa. I do it often enough. Of course, if you want me to drive you home I can do that.”

 

“I think I’d rather stay here,” Aaron rubbed a nervous hand against the back of his neck, “but I’ll take the sofa. I can’t kick you out your bed.”

 

“Whatever you’d prefer. I can drop you at the church on my way into work tomorrow, unless you need to be there early for mass.”

 

“No, that’s fine. David isn’t expecting me back yet. I came straight here from the train.”

 

“Ok, well, I’ll go get you a towel and some blankets. A pillow, you know. Do you need something to sleep in?”

 

“It’s alright. Everything’s in my bag.” Aaron gestured to the duffel bag at the end of the sofa that he’d dropped when he’d arrived. Quickly, Spencer got everything together and when he returned to the living room, Aaron was standing at the window, his head resting on the cool glass. He’d turned the lights off and stripped to just a T-shirt, his jeans unbelted and hanging low on his hips.

 

Spencer considered approaching him but it looked like Aaron needed a moment so he turned to walk back out into the hallway before he was stopped by Aaron’s voice. “Thank you, Spencer. Thank you for not letting me, you know.”

 

“That’s alright,” Spencer assured him but paused, scuffing his toes against the carpet. “I did lie a little bit though, I just thought I should tell you.”

 

“Hmm?” Aaron asked his voice sounded exhausted and Spencer realized how worn out he must be from the trip and all the emotional turmoil of the past days.

 

“I have fantasized about role playing with you as the priest. I just thought you should know. I’m sorry if that bothers you.”

 

Aaron didn’t turn, remained facing the large bay windows, their curtains opened onto the dark night sky punctured by the lights of the city. Spencer couldn’t see his face but he could read the hesitation in his tone. “I have too.”

 

Spencer froze his body feeling suddenly too warm, his skin too tight. “Oh. Um, okay. Night, Aaron.”

 

“Good night, Spencer.”


	7. Awakening

Aaron awoke feeling comfortable but somewhat disorientated. The blanket he had pulled up nearly over his head smelled reassuring and he breathed deeply as he sluggishly tried to remember where he was. Spencer’s apartment. Spencer’s sofa. Spencer’s blanket. A murmur of contentment escaped his throat unbidden as he allowed himself a moment to enjoy the wonderful warmth before the – oh, yup there it was – the embarrassment over his actions the night before came flooding in and twisted his stomach with guilt. He shot up and looked around but the room was still dark, no light filtering through the thick curtains over the windows. No sounds could be heard apart from the hum of the refrigerator. A glance at his watch informed him that it was just before five in the morning, his usual time for waking. Aaron stood, stretching until his back popped and scratched abstractedly at his stomach, which rumbled ominously to remind him that he couldn’t even remember when he last ate something. As he walked out into the hallway, he saw a light glowing from Spencer’s ajar door. Despite his shame at his conduct the night before, a smile stretched across his face at the thought of saying good morning to Spencer in person and he pushed the door open a little more.

 

“Morning –“ the words died on his tongue as he took in the sight of Spencer sprawled over the bed on his stomach. The blanket had slipped in the night until it was half on the floor and only barely draped over Spencer’s lower back and hips revealing his strong thighs and calves, dusted with light hairs where they rested on the top of the sheet. In the pale light of a bedside lamp, Spencer looked like a flawless painting clad in purple boxers with white piping that fit snugly over the curve of his ass. A white T-shirt completed the outfit and Aaron led his eyes linger before realizing that watching the young man sleep was probably somewhat inappropriate especially since his body was taking a distinct interest in the sight before him. Spencer turned in his sleep, his brow furrowing and his nose scrunching slightly as he turned towards the door. Aaron stopped breathing, terrified at being caught but Spencer showed no sign of waking, his breaths still deep and even, his hair falling back over his face and hiding him from Aaron’s view. Aaron’s fingers twitched with the desire to tuck those errant locks back behind Spencer’s ear but instead he padded softly out the room and into the bathroom.

 

Spencer’s bathroom was more spacious than his own, the shower modern and gleaming with the promise of far superior water pressure than what Aaron had at the church. It would be a shame to waste that on a cold shower, Aaron thought sadly, as he clutched his towel tightly. The memory of Spencer’s lips against his, of the hand that briefly clutched at his waist before pushing him away sprung into his mind in sharp relief and Aaron bit his lip nervously. The fact that Spencer had pushed him away only made him admire the young man more. Aaron had practically climbed into Spencer’s lap and still Spencer had refused to take advantage of the situation out of fear that Aaron would regret it. He was right, of course. Aaron was starting to suspect that Spencer was often right. Aaron would have regretted if anything had happened last night. He hadn’t been thinking straight, too wracked with guilt and self-recriminations over Sean’s situation. A situation that he could logically admit was beyond his control but emotionally all he saw was Sean at eight years old, holding out a sticky picture of himself to Aaron as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, halfway out the door, anxious and deliriously happy about going to seminary. Sean’s hair was soft and floppy, just like Aaron’s, but it was a near platinum blonde at that age, blindingly bright, almost angelic. Aaron had taken the picture, Sean sitting in the garden, smiling a gap-toothed grin at the camera and smiled. “You won’t forget me, right, Aaron?” Sean had asked, nervously. Never, he’d assured his baby brother. And he never had. He’d done his best but Sean had walked a path that Aaron couldn’t understand. A path that perhaps Spencer could understand more.

 

Spencer with his long limbs, laying on the bed in the other room like temptation made corporeal. Spencer who was good, honest, virtuous, and who deserved so much more that Aaron felt he was able to give. Spencer should have someone who could take him out for dinner without fear that he would be spotted by a parishioner. Spencer should have someone who could support him. Aaron had a healthy savings account mostly inherited from his parents but, if he left the church, he would have no viable way to support himself or Spencer. Besides, Spencer may have said that age was just a number but Aaron worried that his opinion would change in twenty years’ time when Aaron was old and grey. Also, would Aaron even be able to offer him a sexual relationship. The insistent erection pressing against his pyjama pants seemed to confirm that we would but Aaron hadn’t even managed to masturbate yet. Another image of Spencer, wide eyed with his lips slightly reddened from even their brief contact drifted across Aaron’s mind. Spencer had been strong enough. Was Aaron strong enough to say yes to something that he wanted so very badly?

 

These past couple of days in New York had been horrific. From the moment that he had received Sean’s panicked phone call, Aaron’s gut had been a rolling with guilt and nausea. He’d jumped on the train first thing in the morning after contacting the family lawyer and advising him of the situation as best he knew. At that point, his knowledge had only been Sean’s terrible statement: “Aaron, I’ve been arrested for murder.” He’d waited nervously in the waiting room of the police station until Sean’s legal representation had arrived and then he had continued to wait until the lawyer had returned with permission from Sean to apprise him of the situation. Nothing was very clear but Sean had admitted that he was guilty of selling the tainted alcohol. Aaron had cursed Sean’s stupidity and his inability to keep his mouth shut. The fleeting conversation with Spencer about how the smart ones kept quiet had reminded him that his brother was an idiot with the self-preservation of a depressed lemming. The lawyer had sat him down, explained that it would be manslaughter, explained that Sean would cooperate with the investigation a probably get a lesser sentence, explained that, yes, Sean would be going to jail this time. Aaron had nodded dumbly, tugging at his collar which suddenly seemed too tight. This time he couldn’t help his little brother and he felt a brief moment of elation that this was no longer his problem. A brief moment chased with unbearable guilt.

 

That night as he’d lain under the overly starched sheets in his hotel room, he’d thought long and hard about the choices he’d made in his life and how it felt like he’d never really made any choices at all. Certainly, Sean had made all the wrong choices but Aaron sort of admired that. What had he done in his life that was really, truly of his own volition? He’d got involved in the church to escape his father. He’d gone to seminary because Father Abraham had suggested it. He’d taken the assignment in Bellevue because he felt restless but mostly because he felt it was where he was most needed. But now there was something he wanted for purely selfish reasons. There was someone he wanted. Spencer had appeared in his life and promptly turned his entire world on his head simply by existing. Now, for the first time, he was truly facing a choice and he had no idea what to do, no prior experience to draw on. He was no longer running from his father, over a decade dead in the ground. He had served God, and although his faith was just as strong, he no longer felt that burning need to sacrifice himself for something greater. And yet, to throw away a lifetime of commitment to the church for a man seemed reckless at best, destructive at worst. Would that really make him any better than Sean? Aaron had lain in bed and longed to phone Spencer, just to hear his voice and ask him how his day had been. That was when it had hit him like an iron fist to the solar plexus: he was lonely. He’d never noticed before because he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been lonely. An unloved child in a violent home, the too serious boy at school, the zealot at seminary, the radical priest who was doing good but who would never rise through the ranks. Certainly, David was his friend, his best friend, his only friend, but David went home at night. David had other friends and commitments. Aaron wanted someone to call his own; he wanted someone who would hold him and whisper in his ear that he belonged with them, to them. He wanted someone to love him as pathetic as that sounded even in his own head. What was it that Nat King Cole had sung: “the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return”? It was then that his ridiculous plan had been formed, the plan that had led to him throwing himself at Spencer in a desperate attempt to assuage his desire for love with simple desire for Spencer’s body. It wouldn’t have worked. He wanted more than one night with Spencer. He wanted a lifetime.

 

Aaron sighed around his toothbrush. That was an awful lot to lay at Spencer’s door. Spencer seemed serious but Aaron knew that what he wanted was an assurance that Spencer could never give. Aaron wanted him to promise forever. What did that even mean? The future was uncertain. Was it enough for Spencer to promise him now? Perhaps. Throughout all his meandering thoughts, his erection had persisted, undaunted by his emotional upheaval. Now seemed to be more than enough for his cock. Maybe, he was overthinking this. Okay, he was definitely overthinking this being as he looked at his watch and realized that it was almost an hour since he’d woken up and he was still standing in Spencer’s bathroom. He stripped off his T-shirt and pyjama pants, brushing one hand down his toned chest, absentmindedly wondering if Spencer would find him attractive or if he would prefer him hairless. The thought of waxing his chest hair made him wince slightly before he dismissed it as vanity. When they finally made it in to bed, he hoped Spencer wouldn’t care.

 

The water was warm, the pressure as good as promised but Aaron still froze as he stepped under the spray realizing that he had just though when. Not if. When they slept together. Well, that certainly seemed decisive. Surprisingly, the thought sent a curl of excitement thrilling through his veins and straight to his now desperate erection. He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck before leaning forward and allowing the water to beat down against his tense muscles. Looking down, the water falling around him, he felt imbued with determination and purpose. Bracing himself on the wall, he wrapped his left hand around his cock tightly and pumped once. Oh, he thought, oh well, yes. Yes. He spread his legs more as he set a furious pace, the water lubricating his movements, his hips jerking forwards. Half-remembered movements coaxed him to twist his wrist slightly, to rub his thumb against the slit, to let go of the wall and roll his aching testicles until suddenly, like a miracle, his body tensed, his back bowed, and he shot thick streams of ejaculate over the shower wall. His mouth hung open as a scream seemed to stick in his throat, as his body shook with aftershocks of forgotten pleasure. He waited, gently cupping his softening cock, for the sharp pang of shame but it was strangely absent. Instead he felt boneless, sated, contented. He thought again of Spencer, face soft with sleep while his body was sharp angles of muscles and sinew in his bed. He thought of what it would be like to wake up next to him in the morning. He thought of what it might be like to witness that miracle on Spencer’s face. Would he like the same things Aaron seemed to like? The fear of his inexperience stalled his galloping thoughts and he poured a pool of shower gel into his hand, briskly cleaning off his body before wiping the wall down as well. This had been a revelation but it was definitely a small step. Still, Aaron was starting to think that it was a small step in the right direction. He had been happy as a priest but now he wondered if maybe he had been missing something. He wondered if perhaps, he could be happier.

 

When he stepped out the shower, he realized that he had completely forgotten to bring clean clothes into the bathroom with him. Grumbling, he sniffed at his sleep shirt, grimacing at the slightly musty smell and resigning himself to simply slinging a towel around his waist and hoping to get changed in the living room before Spencer woke up. As he opened the bathroom door, he realized that he was not in luck. Spencer stood framed by his bedroom door, stretching one arm above his head as he yawned widely. Behind him at least two alarms blared in discord. He was still clad in just those boxers and white T-shirt, which had ridden up exposing the sharp angle of one protruding hip bone. His eyes seemed to still be shut but the intensity of Aaron’s stare must have filtered through since he suddenly blinked owlishly and shoved on the glasses that he was holding in his hand. Aaron sucked in a breath. Spencer in glasses was apparently something he liked an awful lot. This was turning into a morning of self-discovery. Spencer’s eyes noticeably trailed up and down his body and Aaron clutched more firmly at his towel, feeling a blush darken his cheeks as he remembered what he had just been doing in Spencer’s shower. Suddenly, that didn’t seem very polite but he wasn’t about to apologize for it or refer to it in any way at all.

 

“Good morning,” Spencer mumbled, looking away at the wall.

 

“Morning, how did you sleep?”

 

“Really well, actually,” Spencer frowned in confusion. “What time did you get up?”

 

“About five.” Spencer literally stuck his tongue out in disgust. “So, you’re not a morning person.”

 

“No. This is the most conversation I have ever had before coffee. Are you done in there?”

 

Aaron flushed ever redder and prayed that Spencer didn’t notice. “Oh, yes. I’m going to get dressed so, um.”

 

“I’ll let you know before I come in to the living room. Sorry there’s not more privacy.”

 

“No, that’s really okay.” Aaron ducked past Spencer in the direction of the living room.

 

“Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

 

“Okay, thanks.” Spencer disappeared into the bathroom and Aaron breathed out a sigh before grinning. It was all so wonderfully domestic. His new knowledge warmed his heart: Spencer was not a morning person. Spencer wore glasses. Spencer looked really good with sleep creases on his cheeks and his hair all tangled and tumbled from the pillow. Quickly, he ducked into the living room and pulled on fresh boxers and his jeans before finding a clean shirt and wandering into the kitchen in search of something to eat. He really was starving. The knot of worry about Sean was still sitting in his stomach but just being in Spencer’s presence eased the burden. He pulled open the fridge and grabbed some eggs, cheese, vegetables, bread, everything he needed to whip up a couple of simple omelettes and toast. He wanted to start the coffee but one look at Spencer’s complicated machine and he decided that Spencer would have to deal with that one himself.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Spencer called through to the kitchen, checking it was okay to enter.

 

“Come in. I made breakfast.”

 

“You’re too efficient in the mornings,” Spencer grumbled, making a beeline for the coffee machine where he unscrewed something, tipped in some grounds, screwed it back, filled a just with milk, stuck it on a pointy bit, flipped a switch, turned a dial, and the machine hummed and spat into life, filling two mugs with coffee.

 

“Says the man who has the most complicated coffee maker in the world.”

 

“It’s an espresso machine,” Spencer blinked at him and Aaron mourned the fact that Spencer had apparently put his contacts in already.

 

“I’ve only ever seen one like that in Starbucks. What’s wrong with drip coffee?”

 

“Here,” Spencer shoved a mug into Aaron’s hand after topping it off with steamed milk.

 

Aaron took a tentative sip as Spencer added sugar to his own mug. A strong, heady flavour assaulted his senses. It was tempered by the milk and he would have preferred it black but this was really, really good coffee. “Hmm,” he mumbled, attempting nonchalance but his whole body was curled around the mug as if afraid that Spencer might take it back from him. “You might have a point.”

 

“Ooh, omelettes.” Spencer grabbed a plate and sat down at the kitchen table with a smile. “I never have time to make real food for breakfast.”

 

“What do you usually eat?” Aaron asked as he sat opposite with his own plate. Suddenly, he felt this burning desire to know everything he could about the other man.

 

“Um, cereal,” Spencer suddenly seemed evasive and Aaron placed his cutlery down, resting his head on his hands and waiting. “You’re doing that silence thing again.” Spencer grumbled. “Fine, I eat Lucky Charms.” Aaron laughed. “I’m an adult. That means I have the right to choose to eat sugar for breakfast.”

 

“Of course you do.”

 

“Damn right,” Spencer mumbled around a mouth full of omelette before he suddenly turned serious, apparently the coffee had kicked in. “Do you want me to look in to Sean’s case?”

 

Aaron paused, his coffee halfway to his mouth. He hadn’t thought of that when he’d come to Spencer. He’d just wanted the comfort of the other man’s presence. “Could you do that?” he asked, unsure whether he wanted Spencer to or not.

 

Spencer shrugged. “You said it was part of something bigger. If that case is being handled by the FBI then it would be relatively simple for me to look into the files, I would imagine. If it’s an NYPD matter then, officially, no. However, our tech analyst can get me anything I want.”

 

“I don’t want you to get in to any trouble.”

 

“She’d cover her tracks. She is the best.”

 

Aaron pondered it over, absentmindedly pushing the last of the toast towards Spencer who was eyeing it hungrily. “I spent a lot of time thinking over these past couple of days. I thought about Sean. I thought about myself. About the very different paths we had chosen. When I realized that this time I wasn’t going to be able to save Sean, I felt somehow lighter. I know that’s a terrible thing to say but it was a relief.” Spencer nodded. “I think, for now, I’ll let the lawyer handle everything. Does that make me an awful brother?”

 

“Not at all,” Spencer said, earnestly, his hand reaching across the table before he pulled back, uncertain. “Not that I’d know. Only child here.”

 

Aaron reached out and clasped Spencer’s hand, running his thumb over his knuckles gently. “Thank you for the offer.”

 

“If you change your mind, all you have to do is call.” Spencer’s face was briefly clouded.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Ah, nothing.”

 

“Come on, tell me.”

 

“A couple of my co-workers found out that we’re, um, involved. One of them took offence to it. She’s a bit childish anyway and she’s acting out somewhat.”

 

“Oh, you know, I never imagined you’d be the one getting flack for this relationship, well, apart from David.”

 

Spencer laughed. “Actually, Father Rossi gave me his blessing.”

 

“To what?” Aaron asked, he remembered Spencer saying that he had spoken with David but he’d been too focused on Sean and on his plan to sleep with Spencer, a plan that had thankfully been aborted.

 

“Ah, um, you want his exact words?”

 

“It’s David. I know it’s going to be ridiculous.”

 

“’Kid, I’m telling you that you can schtup my friend’. He called me kid.”

 

Aaron could feel himself blushing. David really was an idiot. He was going to tell him this as soon as he saw him. “It could have been worse,” he mumbled. “He told me I looked fuckable.”

 

Spencer laughed. “You two are the weirdest priests ever.”

 

“It does seem so. When do we need to leave?”

 

Spencer glanced at his watch. “Ah, yeah, about ten minutes ago. Are you ready to go?”

 

“Sure, I’m all packed up.”

 

“Okay, leave the dishes in the sink. I’ll do them when I get home.” Aaron grimaced but did as he was told, grabbing his bag and following Spencer to the door to collect his coat and shoes. Spencer layered up in a pea coat and a long scarf that he wound several times around his neck. “Car keys, phone, gun, wallet, credentials,” he muttered, looking through his bag before turning to Aaron with a smile.

 

Aaron stopped him with one hand on his lapel, “Really, thank you for not letting me go through with that last night. You were right. I’m not ready.”

 

“I know.” Spencer covered his hand with his own and smiled warmly at him.

 

Aaron leaned in slightly closer until he could brush his lips over Spencer’s cheek, before turning to breathe hot words in Spencer’s ear: “But one day I will be.”

 

“Oh,” when Aaron pulled back Spencer’s eyes were wide.

 

“We should go.” Aaron smiled, and tugged gently on Spencer’s scarf before reaching past him to unlatch the door. Stepping past the other man, he turned to see Spencer regarding him with wonder. “Come on.”

 

Galvanized into motion, Spencer grinned and locked the door behind them, and walked down the stairs to the car with Aaron, their shoulders brushing gently and sending a disproportionate amount of warmth down Aaron’s arm each and every time. Once on the street, as if by mutual agreement, they separated, keeping a respectable amount of distance between them until they reached Spencer’s car.

 

“Can I put the radio on?” Aaron asked after he’d put his bag in the back and buckled his belt.

 

“Sure. I think it works.” Spencer frowned at the dashboard as he pulled out into traffic.

 

“You never drive with music on?” Aaron chuckled as he fiddled with the dials, trying to find a station. Eventually, music filtered through the static and he settled back into his seat.

 

“Um, no, I don’t think so. Oh no, when I drove from CalTech to MIT, Ethan brought some tapes and insisted on putting them on all the time.”

 

“Who’s Ethan?” Aaron asked, aiming for casual and missing it by about a mile.

 

Spencer grinned. “Just a friend. We met at CalTech. He beat me on an IQ test by a point and we bonded over it. We started at the FBI academy together as well but he dropped out. He’s a jazz musician in New Orleans now.”

 

“You’re still friends?”

 

“He, um, he’s had his own struggles with addiction and he got me clean the first time. Spent the week with me, probably kept me alive. I’m sure you’ll meet him at some point. When he’s in the area touring, he pops in to check up on me. I think you’ll like him. At least, he can talk about music.”

 

“I look forward to it,” Aaron smiled, feeling his heart beat speed up at the realization that Spencer wanted him to meet his friends, that he saw a future together. 

 

Traffic was still light as they drove through the city, Aaron humming along to the radio as Spencer concentrated on his driving. As Spencer turned into Danbury Street, Aaron felt a small twinge of disappointment despite his desire to get back to his work. He wanted to put this whole experience with Sean behind him but knew that first he’d have to discuss it with David. He owed it to his friend who had taken over the running of the church at such short notice. Plus, David knew the history with Sean. He’d be better able to advise Aaron whether he should drop it or perhaps take Spencer up on his offer.

 

“Thank you for the lift,” Aaron murmured, smiling at Spencer as the other man shifted the car into park outside of the church.

 

Spencer nibbled nervously at his lip for a moment, “Would you like to come for dinner tonight or is that too soon?”

 

“I’d really like to but I don’t feel right leaving David at the church for another night. He’s taken on all the responsibilities while I’ve been away in New York. Could you come here?”

 

“Sure,” Spencer grinned. “I could bring take out.”

 

“Sounds wonderful. I’d need to step out if anyone came for guidance but it’s usually quiet.”

 

“Okay, great.” Spencer reached out and briefly clasped Aaron’s hand. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Aaron threaded their fingers together. He wanted to at least hug Spencer but he was very aware of their surroundings and how that might be misinterpreted. “Don’t let your colleague get you down.”

 

“I won’t.” Spencer assured him and allowed Aaron to step out the car, grabbing his duffel from the backseat before waving as Spencer drove off down the road. Once Spencer had turned the corner, he headed into the church, breathing in the comforting smells of his home. Father Rossi was tidying up from morning mass and waved at him with a smile.

 

“The prodigal son returns,” David clapped him broadly on the shoulder. “Want to talk?”

 

“Yes, please.” Aaron leaned into his friend’s hand briefly before leading them back into his apartment.

 

“Before we get to the serious stuff, I met your young man. He came in yesterday evening to see you.”

 

“I know.” Aaron hesitated before continuing. “I spent the night at his last night.” David’s eyes twinkled but Aaron held up a cautioning hand. “Before you get any ideas, I slept on the sofa.”

 

“Did he also sleep on the sofa?”

 

“No, David. He slept in his bed. Nothing happened.” Aaron had already decided against telling his friend about his thwarted plan to get laid as some kind of balm for his guilt. He also wasn’t about to start regaling him with tales of his forays into masturbation.

 

“I’ll nominate the kid for sainthood,” David quipped as he settled onto the sofa and watched Aaron putter around, putting his laundry into the machine, his toiletries in the bathroom. “I gave him my blessing.”

 

“I heard. He told me your exact words.” Aaron levelled a disapproving glare at his friend who shrugged unrepentantly. “What did you think?” Aaron attempted nonchalance but he really wanted to know David’s opinion of Spencer.

 

“I liked him a lot. Surprised me really. Do you know he has an eidetic memory?”

 

“I didn’t,” Aaron admitted, settling into his chair.

 

“IQ of 187 and three PhDs. He’s a smart one, Aaron.”

 

“I know,” Aaron confirmed, though he hadn’t realized quite how smart not that it mattered. “He’s coming here for dinner tonight.”

 

“You’re seeing an awful lot of him.”

 

“Too much?”

 

“That’s not my call,” David smiled warmly, “And really, dating advice isn’t my realm of expertise. All I know of romance comes from daytime TV.”

 

Aaron grimaced. “I’ll play it by ear then.”

 

“You know, we could make it more official that I will spend some evenings at the church so you can go see your young man.”

 

“That’s very kind of you,” Aaron said sincerely. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

 

David leaned forward, clasping his hands. “How’s Sean?”

 

Aaron sighed. “Not good. He’s being charged with manslaughter. Not much I can do for him this time.”

 

“But?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re chewing the inside of your cheek. There’s something you’re considering.”

 

“Spencer had a suggestion or an offer. He said he could look into whatever mess Sean has got himself into. I told him that I’d think about it. I’ve always done everything I could for Sean but this time I’m not sure. I mean, it hasn’t helped in the past. Maybe it’s time for me to stop. I’d resigned myself to that. It was even somewhat of a relief but then Spencer made this offer this morning and now I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Sean is a grown man. He’s going to have to accept responsibility for his actions at some point.”

 

“I know, of course. I’m just not sure that jail is the best place for him to do that.”

 

“You’re worried he’s going to come out worse?”

 

“I’m worried he won’t come out. This could be the trajectory for the rest of his life. In and out of jail.” Aaron sighed heavily, wringing his hands. “There is so much good in him. I know it. He was such a happy little boy.”

 

“Sean hasn’t been a little boy for a long time now.”

 

“I know. He’ll be thirty three this year.”

 

“Still, just to play devil’s advocate, you are his big brother.”

 

“And I am my brother’s keeper apparently.”

 

“What exactly would Spencer be able to do?”

 

“I’m not sure. I think it’s just about giving me more information that I could possibly share with Sean’s lawyer in hopes of getting him a lighter sentence.”

 

“Sounds like an ethical grey area.” David mused.

 

“Yes,” Aaron agreed. “I don’t like it really. It doesn’t seem right or like an abuse of power. Spencer’s power.”

 

“What would be the risk to Spencer?”

 

“It depends on whether the larger case is being handled by the FBI or not. But it’s not that. It’s – I really like him, David.”

 

“I know. The feeling is apparently mutual from what I gathered from my one meeting with him.”

 

“I’ve realized that. But I don’t want to drag him into this mess. We’re just getting to know each other. He shouldn’t need to deal with my screw-up little brother.”

 

“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

 

“Then why do I feel like I need to be asking for forgiveness?” The memory of bringing himself to climax in Spencer’s shower flitted through his mind again and Aaron rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. There was a lot that he should really be discussing in a confessional.

 

“Aaron, Sean’s mistakes and his sins are not yours.” David paused and Aaron was sure there was a small, inappropriate smile tugging at the corner of his friend’s mouth. “Is there anything else you want to share?”

 

“No,” Aaron answered too quickly.

 

David levelled a long look at his friend, waiting expectantly until Aaron glared at him. David stood, clapping his hands together. “Well, I’ll let you get changed and back to work. I’m guessing you don’t need me here for the rest of the day?”

 

“No, thank you. Thank you for everything. I’ve made the right decision about Sean, right?”

 

“Only you can truly decide that.” David smiled softly as Aaron sighed in exasperation. “But in my opinion, yes. Sean has to stand on his own two feet now even if he’s in prison. I have friends from my childhood who ended up in jail. Some on them were reformed by the experience. Some of them will die behind bars. Sean will make of this experience what he will and I know you’ll be supporting him as best you can every step of the way.”

 

Aaron nodded once and Dave let himself out, closing the door softly behind him. Aaron looked around at his small apartment, comparing it to Spencer’s home. He could never live with as much chaos as Spencer did but the other man’s apartment did have a certain charm that his lacked. He wondered what it would be like if they tried to share their lives. He didn’t have much positive experience with couples living in harmony. His childhood home had been fraught with tension. Even though his mother had always sided with his father over Aaron, their marriage had not been a happy one. Aaron often wondered if perhaps his mother would have been happier if she had been able to have more independence. Jackson Hotchner firmly believed in a traditional home and that meant that he earned the money while Catherine was expected to run the home and be beautiful.

 

Aaron had no desire to be his mother. If he and Spencer were to live together, he’d have to find something to do with his life, something to give him purpose. He’d always thought that the church would give him that until the end of his life but now his existence seemed somehow dimmer, as if Spencer had led him out of the cave and into the light. He’d enjoyed his life as a priest but he was starting to think that he might be ready for something new. But – no – he was getting ahead of himself. He was planning a life with Spencer before he even knew if that was what the other man wanted. They’d only known each other for a couple of months and they’d barely started dating. He had always been too serious about things. He stared at his reflection in the small mirror in his bedroom as he straightened his clerical collar and combed his hair. Ready for the day, he left his apartments to potter around the church before he needed to go to a near-by old age home to offer them the opportunity for confession and often to administer the last rights to an old friend.

 

*****

 

“Hi,” Spencer called, sticking his head around the door of Aaron’s apartment. Aaron smiled and gestured for him to come in. “I didn’t see you in the church so I guessed you were here.”

 

“Spencer, my door is always open. Especially for you.”

 

Spencer smiled broadly and stepped into the room with a bag full of Chinese food. Aaron’s stomach grumbled, reminding him that once again he had forgotten to eat. He’d been so busy catching up on what he’d missed while in New York and rehashing the events with David this morning had unsettled him more than he was willing to admit. “I hope I got enough,” Spencer teased as he placed the bag on the counter. “How was your day?”

 

“Busy,” Aaron admitted, running one finger around his collar. “It was nice to be back. What about you?”

 

“Uneventful, which in my line of work is incredibly nice.” Spencer shrugged as he started pulling cartons out the bag. Aaron moved around him with ease, taking out two plates and filling a couple of glasses with water. It was as if they had done this a million times before, discussing their day and sitting down for a meal together. Aaron pulled out the table he had that folded back against the wall with an apologetic smile.

 

“Sorry, I don’t really have room in here for a proper table.”

 

Spencer shrugged, taking a chair from Aaron and sitting down with his food. “You should see some of the places we’ve eaten on cases. I am the master at eating food in a moving car.” He brandished his fork with a smile while Aaron snapped his chopsticks apart. “But I cannot use those things.”

 

“Seriously?” Aaron looked at his hand in surprise as he pincered the chopsticks together.

 

“I know, it’s ridiculous. Honestly, it should be easy. I’m really good with my hands.” Aaron choked on a mouthful of spring roll and Spencer blushed again and muttered ruefully. “I should not be allowed to talk around you ever. Look.” Spencer placed his fork down and fished in his pocket before coming up with a quarter. He rolled it over is knuckles before waving his hands and suddenly it was gone. Aaron pillowed his head on his hands with a small smile. Spencer grinned back and made a show of proving that the coin wasn’t up his sleeves before he reached behind Aaron’s ear, his fingers brushing gently over his hair before he returned with the quarter and another smile.

 

“Impressive!” Aaron grinned as he took the offered quarter and flicked it into the air. “So you’re a magician too.”

 

“I can do a few card and coin tricks. I got into it when I was a kid. Though, it didn’t make me any cooler.”

 

“I think you’re cool.” Aaron answered earnestly before adding, “Though I do have a coin collection so that might not carry much weight.”

 

Spencer chuckled as they both returned to their food. Aaron ate ravenously, finishing off Spencer’s meal as well before suggesting they retire to the sofa. “Do you want a drink?” he asked.

 

“Sure, that whiskey was quite nice.” Spencer admitted. “I’ll just go to the bathroom.”

 

Aaron waved a hand in the direction of the small door next to his bedroom before pouring them both a drink. After a moment of indecision, he quickly went into his room and looked over his record collection before deciding Bob Seger would make a nice soundtrack to the rest of the evening. The opening bars of “Against the Wind” followed him out of his bedroom as he settled on the sofa, feigning a nonchalance that he didn’t quite feel. When Spencer came back out, Aaron saw a flicker of indecision before he moved in the direction of the armchair.

 

Aaron patted the seat next to him and moved back in an obvious invitation. The younger man paused for a moment before joining Aaron on the sofa, perched almost as far away as the little two seater would allow. “I’m not going to break,” Aaron huffed out in frustration, before reaching out and tugging Spencer until he was reclining against Aaron’s chest, one of Aaron’s arm looped around his waist. Spencer was a line of tension against his body before he breathed out a sigh and seemed to melt backwards into Aaron, their bodies fitting together like the last pieces in a puzzle.

 

“I don’t want to pressure you,” Spencer murmured as Aaron reached over to the small table and handed him a glass.

 

“You’re definitely not. If anything, I was the one being pushy last night.”

 

“You weren’t thinking straight. I knew that.”

 

“I know.” Aaron took a long sip of whiskey to calm his nerves. “Spencer, I’ve been giving our situation a great deal of consideration today.” The tension returned to Spencer’s body and Aaron unconsciously tightened his grip around his waist, tilting his head to rest his cheek against Spencer’s soft curls. “I like you a lot. Far more than I envisioned was possible. I’m probably having his discussion embarrassingly early but I have to know. Are you interested in pursuing this seriously?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well,” Aaron hesitated as Spencer sat up, turning so that they were now able to look each other in the eye. Aaron broke the link and glared down at his slightly shaking hands. “Well, I just, with my job, and everything, you know, there are significant risks to maintaining a romantic attachment and I’m willing to take that chance because I think that you’re worth it. I just wanted to know if that interest was reciprocated. If not, then, well, I don’t know.”

 

“I like you a lot too,” Spencer murmured, one hand tipping Aaron’s chin up. “I can’t promise forever but I’ve never felt about another person the way I do about you.”

 

“I’d leave the priesthood for you,” Aaron blurted out with wide eyes. “But I don’t know what else I’d do with my life.”

 

“How about we cross that bridge when we reach it?” Spencer assured him but Aaron knew that he was giving it far more consideration than the flippant comment seemed to imply from the way he nibbled at his lips.

 

“This is terrifying,” Aaron complained.

 

“I do my best work under extreme terror,” Spencer assured him with a smile. The shrill note of a saxophone rung out and Spencer turned in the direction of the music with a perplexed look on his face. “What are we listening to?”

 

“Bob Seger,” Aaron smiled. “I’d been shocked that you didn’t recognize it but I’m starting to realize that it’s par for the course.”

 

“It’s nice?” Spencer said, still looking unsure as he listened to the lyrics. “I like the sentiment of the song. Turning the page is a good idea.”

 

“Come, I want to show you something.” Aaron stood, holding out his hand, he led Spencer into his bedroom and turned him to face the walls of records.

 

“Wow. Between my books and your records we’re going to need a bigger apartment,” Spencer froze, turning to Aaron with the look of a petrified rabbit, his mouth opening and closing with unuttered excuses.

 

“Probably true,” was all Aaron replied with a warm smile and Spencer shut his mouth with a sharp intake of breath. “”I’ll play you all of them.”

 

“I’d like that,” Spencer squeezed gently at Aaron’s hand and threaded their fingers more tightly together. “Just don’t expect me to dance.”

 

Aaron grinned. “No dancing. Got it. Are we moving very fast? I mean, I have no real frame of reference but it seems that way.”

 

Spencer shrugged again. “I’m comfortable with it.”

 

“I guess we’re making up for it by going slow in other areas.” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, looking down at his feet.

 

“Aaron, relax. I’m not about to throw you down on your bed and have my way with you.” Spencer was smirking but Aaron felt himself flush bright red at just how appealing that sounded. He was about to reply when he heard a sharp rapping against the wooden door of his home.

 

“Sorry,” he murmured.

 

“It’s okay. Can I look through your books?” Spencer gestured to a small pile of library books on a cabinet next to the bed.

 

“Of course, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Spencer waved him off, already focused on the new books. Aaron took a moment to drink in the sight of Spencer Reid in his bedroom, his tie loosened around his neck and the well-tailored waistcoat, unbuttoned around his slim waist. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up here but he thanked God for working in mysterious ways and sending him this unexpected development in his life. Clearing his throat, he ran a hand over his hair and straightened his shirt before closing the bedroom door behind him. At his front door was Mrs. Pasternak, a sweet old woman who had lost her husband about four years ago.

 

“Evening father, I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner?”

 

“No, not at all.” Aaron assured her, taking her arm and leading her back into the church feeling a knot of guilt in his stomach and the double life he seemed to be leading.  “What can I do for you tonight, Mrs. Pasternak?”

 

“Well, Father, Christmas is coming up on us very fast. Thanksgiving in next week, you know.” Aaron nodded even though the holiday had entirely slipped his mind. It had been years since he had celebrated. David always invited him to dinner with his family but Aaron preferred to stay at home and morosely contemplate his own dire familial relationships over a whiskey. Briefly, he wondered how Spencer celebrated before returning his attention to the woman in front of him. “Well, Father, I just wanted to make sure that you were still going to have the get-together after midnight mass.”

 

“We do every year. This year will be no different,” Aaron assured her with a smile. “I hope we can count on some of your delicious cookies.”

 

The older woman blushed happily, suppressing a grin. “Well, of course, Father. Well, that was all. Have a good evening.”

 

“You too, Mrs. Pasternak. Will you get home okay?”

 

“Oh yes, my grandson is waiting outside in the car.”

 

“Give my regards to Evan.”

 

“I will, Father. Goodnight.”

 

Aaron watched her retreat from the church. He hadn’t been lying. That woman really did make the best sugar cookies. He wondered who would be leading the congregation next Christmas. With a twinge of sadness, he realized that he was already assuming it wouldn’t be him.

 

“Everything okay?” Spencer asked jumping up from Aaron’s bed looking slightly guilty and placing a book back down on the cabinet. Aaron noted that he was already most of the way through. “Sorry, I was lying on your bed. I got a little carried away with the story.”

 

“Shall I give you another minute to finish it?” Aaron teased and Spencer pouted. “Everything’s fine. Just a brief discussion about the Christmas mass.”

 

“Already?” Spencer looked somewhat scandalized. “It’s not even Thanksgiving.”

 

“Apparently that’s next week.”

 

“Really?” Spencer looked pensive for a moment. “Wow, this year has gone really fast.”

 

“What do you do for Thanksgiving? Do you go home?”

 

“Ah, well, there’s usually not much point.” Spencer looked uncomfortable before sucking in a deep breath. “My father left when I was ten years old and my mother, my mother is in an institution. She suffers from schizophrenia. There’s no guarantee she’d know why I was there, or even who I was sometimes. It’s got worse these past few years.”

 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” Aaron stepped forward, placing his hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

 

“It’s genetic,” Spencer confessed in a whisper. “I’m pretty much passed the real danger time but it could happen to me. You should know that. It should be weighted in your decision.”

 

“The possibility of you at some point maybe having a mental illness does not factor in my decision at all. The fact that I might be unemployed for the rest of my life should factor in yours.”

 

“How about we just see what happens? This is only our second proper date.”

 

“Alright,” Aaron smiled.

 

“I should get going soon,” Spencer admitted ruefully. “I have a deadline for another journal article and I wanted to get the first draft finished. Is that okay?”

 

“That’s fine,” Aaron assured him, leading them back into the main room. “Thank you for dinner. Next time is on me.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer shrugged into his jacket before wrapping his scarf around his neck. “I look forward to it.”

 

“Call me to let me know you got home safe.” Aaron stepped forward, smoothing down Spencer’s lapels before wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist. Spencer automatically returned the hug, hands clasped behind Aaron’s neck, smiling broadly at him before leaning forward as they held each other close. “Good night, Spencer.” Aaron murmured into Spencer’s hair before pressing his lips to Spencer’s cheek again. Spencer turned to him, one hand gently cupping Aaron’s face before he leaned in and with the slightest pressure, brushed his lips against Aaron’s before pulling back with a nervous look on his face. Aaron grinned before leaning his forehead against Spencer’s.

 

“Good night. Aaron.” Spencer breathed back at him.


	8. Desire

“You’re looking far too happy for someone who’s just been told they’re going to Florida,” Morgan grumbled as Spencer slid back behind his desk with a mug of coffee. JJ was currently in Ryan’s office discussing their next case but she’d mouthed the word at them as she passed, shaking her head sadly. “Nothing good ever happens in Florida.”

 

“I had a nice evening,” Spencer conceded and Emily smirked over her files.

 

“Oh yeah, gonna share some details?” Morgan leaned back in his chair. “Love is in the air, my beautiful people. I called Elle last night to see if she wanted to go for a drink but she told me she was already out. She’d met some guy at a bar. Next thing you know Garcia is going to be hooking up with a guy at that coffee shop she raves about and it’ll just be you and me, Princess.”

 

“Don’t call me Princess.” Emily reached across the aisle between their desks and smacked Morgan on his bicep. He feigned pain, exaggeratedly rubbing his arm as Spencer rolled his eyes. “So, what was Elle saying?”

 

Morgan shrugged, “Not a lot, just that she met a guy. I didn’t really want the details. She should be in soon, though, so you can ask her.”

 

“Ask me what?” Penelope asked as she skipped through the door with purple flowers in her hair.

 

“Meet anyone at the coffee shop?” Spencer asked with a smirk.

 

Penelope’s mouth fell open in shock. “He’s developed the ability to read minds,” she whispered. “Are you a mutant? Use your powers for good, my young Padawan.”

 

“What? You need to pick a reference and stick with it,” Spencer groused, before glaring at Morgan as he distinctly coughed ‘nerds’. “I can’t read minds,” he assured Garcia who was looking at him warily. “Morgan just made a joke about everyone pairing off.”

 

“Then my Chocolate God of Thunder Mountain is prescient. I did indeed meet a hottie at the coffee shop this morning but he set all sort of alarm bells ringing in my head so I made like wind and blew him off. Guy had tiny little hands.”

 

“Tiny hands are bad?” Morgan asked, surreptitiously stretching out his own fingers.

 

“Oh yeah,” Emily and Spencer said in unison.

 

“Why?” Morgan looked in confusion. “Is it like that big shoes thing?”

 

“Think about it, Morgan,” Emily chastised him, raising two fingers and crooking them suggestively. Spencer choked on his sip of coffee.

 

“Good lord, you all need Jesus,” Morgan spluttered, trying not to laugh.

 

“Agent Morgan, you can finish your stuttering later,” Ryan strode out his office with JJ at his heels. “Everyone in the conference room. We have what the locals are calling a satanic cult.”

 

“Florida,” Morgan grumbled. “Someone needs to call Elle. She’s really late now.”

 

“I guess her guy didn’t have Lilliputian hands,” Penelope grinned. “You guys go up. I’ll track her down from my office.”

 

Spencer, Morgan, and Emily traipsed up to the round table room where they were greeted by the close-ups from the autopsy on the big screen. A young woman was laid out on the table, her skin loose and pallid, a tell-tale sign she’d spent some time in the water. Spencer flipped through the file in front of him and stopped at a zoomed out picture, his stomach lurching – God, he really hated Florida – he noticed that the lower half of the body was missing. Alligators were another complication in the crime scene, a particularly disturbing one, though not as disturbing as the symbols.

 

“Satanic cults were debunked as an urban myth,” Emily muttered, looking at the photographs of a woman’s chest with an inverted pentagram carved deep into the flesh.

 

“I’m aware, Agent Prentiss. I debunked them. Still, there have been killers who use Satan to justify their kills and that seems to be what we have here.” Ryan muttered dismissively and Emily dropped her head, her long hair hiding her face. Spencer recognized the move as one of his own when he felt embarrassed. “We can discuss those aspects more on the plane. Where’s Agent Greenaway?”

 

“Unknown,” Morgan intoned seriously. “Garcia is trying to trace her now.”

 

Ryan’s face crumpled into a scowl but he said nothing as he stalked from the room.

 

“Elle is in some serious shit when she gets in,” Emily muttered as she stowed her tablet in her purse.

 

“Do you think she’s okay?” Spencer worried at his lip.

 

“Of course she is, kid. She’s probably just still getting her rocks off. She’ll turn up just maybe not in time for this flight. One profiler down and a lunatic running around the everglades. Fuck our lives.” Morgan grumbled as he stood.

 

The others nodded their agreement as they trooped out to get their go-bags. Elle didn’t make the plane and no further comment was made but Spencer’s stomach continued to twist with anxiety. They discussed the case as much as they could but they needed the autopsy results before any further conclusions could be reached so after an hour they drifted into other pursuits, whatever worked to get them in the mind-set for the gruelling days ahead.

 

Emily sat down next to him, producing a sandwich from the deli near her home. “I got two,” she smiled. “I was hoping to get you out for lunch but I guess this will have to do.” Her voice was low, Spencer could tell she was avoiding attracting the attention of the rest of the team. He was really appreciating her overtures of friendship. He surmised that his romantic entanglement had humanised him in her eyes, made him seem less robotic.

 

“So you’re seeing a lot of Aaron,” Emily muttered as Spencer unwrapped his sandwich, peeking suspiciously in between the bread. “No pickle, I promise.”

 

“I am,” Spencer admitted, happily taking a bite as Emily nibbled on hers. “Is that a problem?”

 

“Not for me. Are you two serious?”

 

“Pretty serious,” Spencer admitted. It was nice to have found a friend in Emily. If only they had been able to talk like this a few months ago, he wouldn’t have had to seek solace in the church. He felt slightly chilled at the thought that he would never have met Aaron. Still, it was nice to have gained another friend. “We have started talking about long term plans. Only in the vaguest of terms but it seems like we’re both interested.”

 

“Wow,” Emily looked at him in shock. “What’s he like in the sack?”

 

“Emily!” Spencer blushed bright red.

 

“Sorry, it’s just I reckon all those years of pent up sexual tension must make him pretty awesome.”

 

“When I find out, I definitely will not tell you,” Spencer grumbled around a mouthful of roast chicken.

 

“You haven’t slept together? I’m shocked.”

 

“We’re taking it slow,” Spencer admitted. “I don’t want to push Aaron into anything.”

 

“That’s so sweet." Emily smiled sappily at him before sighing, “One day I’ll find a sweet, caring man like you Spencer Reid.”

 

“I’m sure you will, Em.” Spencer smiled at her even as he shifted uncomfortably at the compliment. Biting his lip, he raised what was really on his mind: “Do you think Elle will come back?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, missing a flight is a pretty good indicator that someone is going to leave. Gideon missed the Milwaukee case and then he was just gone.”

 

“You missed a flight and you’re still here.”

 

“I was high as a kite,” Spencer murmured and then slapped a hand over his mouth when Emily gasped in shock. “Please ignore that.”

 

“You finally admitted it,” Emily smiled and looked like she was considering hugging him. Spencer overtly leaned away from her. “I’m proud of you. I’ve wanted to say that for a long time. What you did is remarkable.”

 

“What?”

 

“Getting clean,” Emily hissed, glancing around the jet.

 

“I had help,” Spencer sighed. “I actually missed the flight to go see my friend Ethan. He stayed with me the following weekend. He was there through the worst of it.”

 

“Would he let me hug him?” Emily teased.

 

“I think he’d love it,” Spencer smiled back and allowed her to bump their shoulders together. The knot of anxiety over Elle loosened for a moment as he enjoyed a meal with someone he could finally call a friend. The bubble lasted until they landed, stepping out into the muggy heat of the everglades. Ryan sent Spencer down to the morgue to get the autopsy report and a closer look at the victim while the rest of the team started to set up. The discovery of the fingers in the stomach was disturbing. The later discovery that none of the fingers belonged to the victim was unsettling. The team knuckled down with a mutual grimace. Florida. Florida was the fucking worst.

 

By the time they stumbled into their hotel rooms, another girl was missing and a search party was being formed for daybreak. Morgan was butting heads with a local pastor. Ryan was at odds with the head detective and JJ was just trying to keep the peace. Spencer collapsed onto his bed, grateful that they at least weren’t sharing, and dialled Aaron’s number from memory. The phone was picked up after the second ring and Spencer couldn’t hold in his relieved sigh at hearing Aaron’s voice.

 

“How are you?” Aaron asked, mirth in his voice.

 

“Happy to be talking to you.” Spencer admitted.

 

“I could tell,” Aaron chuckled. “I miss you too. How’s the case?”

 

“Tell me about your day first.”

 

“It was good. The local youth group were brainstorming ways to make money to put towards a skate park. There’s going to be an art sale of some of the more talented street artists. Some of these kids are brilliant and it’s good for them to have a focus.”

 

Spencer started unlacing his shoes and pulling off his belt. He really did need to try and get some sleep tonight and his exhaustion didn’t motivate him to actually put on pyjamas. “Sounds interesting. I could use some new art for my apartment. Apparently what I have is creepy.”

 

“Pictures made by stalkers generally are,” Aaron laughed quietly. “I’ll count on your support.”

 

“As long as I don’t have to go anywhere near a skateboard.”

 

“I promise.” Aaron hesitated for a moment, setting Spencer on edge before he spoke, “David’s worried about us.”

 

Spencer paused sitting on the edge of the bed before laying back down with a sigh. “I was waiting for him to voice some kind of protest.”

 

“He thinks that I’m attracted to you because I can help you where I can’t help Sean.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer paused, pulling his legs up to his chest. “That wasn’t what I was expecting.”

 

“I am not confusing you with my brother,” Spencer could feel the way Aaron’s brow would be furrowed even through the staticy phone line.

 

“I’m glad.”

 

“I know that you wouldn’t use again.”

 

“I have no reason to,” Spencer tried to infuse his tone with all the warmth he felt every time he talked to the other man. 

 

“Want to talk about the case now?”

 

“Satanism and cannibalism,” Spencer sighed. “And another girl missing since we got here. There’s a local priest who’s helping us out. A Father Marks?”

 

“I don’t know him.” Aaron’s voice sounded tight. “The case sounds horrific.”

 

“It’s bad.” Spencer admitted, shuffling under the covers and slipping off his glasses. “Plus one of the team has gone AWOL.” He yawned suddenly, and loudly, unable to hide his exhaustion.

 

“Go to sleep, Spencer. We can talk tomorrow.”

 

“Alright, sorry, Aaron. Good night.”

 

“Wait, Spencer?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Do you like him?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Father Marks?” Spencer could hear the nerves in Aaron’s voice, could see the way he’d be rubbing at the back of his neck but he couldn’t understand why until suddenly the penny dropped and he laughed softly.

 

“Aaron, I don’t throw myself at every priest I see.”

 

“No, of course not. I wasn’t suggesting. I just –“

 

“You know, I’d never even thought of a priest in a sexual way until I met you. So, maybe I don’t have a priest kink at all. I think it’s more an Aaron kink. I like you in a collar not another man in a collar.”

 

“Oh, okay. That’s good.”

 

“It is. I certainly enjoy it,” Spencer murmured, his words coming too easily and without much thought in his exhausted state. “I like imagining it when I’m falling asleep. Sucking a mark just below that collar so no one else knows it’s there. Just you. And when you stand up at the altar with your robes billowing you’ll know it’s there. You’ll feel it. You could raise a hand in the middle of your homily, press your fingers to the bruise and I would know exactly what you were doing but no one else would.” Spencer sighed softly, completely forgetting the man on the other end of the line, his eyes closed, balancing on the edge of sleep until Aaron made a strangled little noise and Spencer suddenly sat up.

 

“Sorry, God, not God, darn, Aaron I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say those things. I was falling asleep and –“

 

“It’s okay.” Aaron’s voice sounded different, sort of looser than usual and Spencer filed it away as something to be examined later. “Good night, Spencer. You’ll come see me when you get back?”

 

“Of course,” Spencer sighed, relieved that the older man hadn’t taken offence. “Good night.” He hung up and, despite his lingering embarrassment, he fell fast asleep.

 

From the next morning when one of the volunteers went missing on the search for the missing woman, the case seemed to tumble forward at breakneck pace. The devil had the pedal to the floor and the BAU were just along for the ride. Spencer was sent to the local mental institution by Ryan who was unfamiliar with his aversion to those places but Emily offered to accompany him. His smile of relief in her direction was heartfelt. Even though he flinched when the security door locked behind them, always aware that one day he might enter one of these places and not be allowed to leave, he was glad that they had made the trip. The final puzzle piece fell into place and Floyd Feylinn Ferell was arrested. A cannibal who believed the devil was on his side. A connoisseur of female flesh who had fed the fat of his labour to the entire community. Morgan was raging. Spencer felt sick. The whole team lobbied to get on the jet and back to DC as soon as possible. All that was left was a few loose ends. It was always easier when they confessed, though no less horrific.

 

“Hey, Reid?” Spencer looked up from the journal in front of him as Morgan sat down across the table. “Still reading Ferell’s journal? That shit can’t be good for you.”

 

“It’s incredibly detailed. Disturbing. I’ll talk it over with someone when we get back.”

 

“You still going to that church near your home?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Spencer answered, distracted by a particularly vivid section that appeared to be a justification for cannibalism as a foetus devours a woman from within. “It’s not near me. It’s in Bellevue.”

 

“Oh right. The priest there, he’s good to talk to?”

 

Spencer nodded and heard Morgan sigh, standing up and leaving the young man to the literature that would fuel his nightmares for the next few weeks. He knew he could put it down. Ferell was in custody. He’d confessed. There was no doubt about what had happened but Spencer didn’t only care about the what. He cared about the why. He wanted to know exactly how that twisted mind worked even if he could do nothing to help. Feeling helpless in the face of mental illness was his speciality.

 

The flight back was subdued. Everyone weighed down by the horror of what they had seen but more by the news that Garcia had imparted to Morgan just before they took off. Elle was gone. Garcia had traced her to the border with Mexico but no further. Apparently, she’d crossed with the guy she met at the bar that night if credit cards and passport checks were right. Garcia tried to be jovial about the apparent whirlwind romance but it fell flat. This was just another line in the saga of Elle’s erratic behaviour. Spencer should have seen it coming. Elle had been unnecessarily cruel about his relationship with Aaron. Her comments had been unprofessional and what’s more they had cut him to the quick. Still, she’d been slipping for a long time, ever since Garner. The failure to save the woman he’d once hoped was a friend weighed heavily on Spencer as he stared out the aeroplane window into the setting sun. Three hours and he’d be back in DC. Four hours and he’d hopefully be back in Aaron’s arms. Wherever she was and whomever she was with, Spencer hoped that Elle was feeling the same level of comfort that Spencer felt in Aaron’s presence.

 

When they landed, Spencer cursed the fact that he hadn’t driven to the airstrip and would have to detour back to the BAU to pick up his car. A driver was wating and he drove back with JJ who filled the car with talk about the wonders of a hot bath to which Spencer provided minimal commentary gleaned from scientific studies and the necessity of reading Cosmopolitan when he was stuck in waiting rooms. The whole way, he bounced his foot impatiently, desperate to see Aaron again and to make sure that he hadn’t actually upset him with his slip of the tongue on the phone the other night.

 

The red cross was flashing intermittently into the night as Reid stepped out his car and he smiled at the sight. A light rain was just starting to fall and it brought him back to the first night and a different kind of desperation that had brought him to Father Aaron Hotchner’s door. This time, he tripped with light, giddy steps over to the church and through the wooden doors only to be arrested by the sight in front of him, his mouth falling open in horror and shock.

 

“Morgan?” Spencer stopped in the doorway, definitely terrified at the sight of his work and his romantic life colliding.

 

“Reid!” Morgan exclaimed at the same time as Aaron asked more tentatively, “Spencer?”

 

“Spencer?” Morgan looked at the priest in front of him with curiosity before turning to his teammate. “Sorry to intrude on your turf, man. It’s just you said this guy was good and this last case -- ” Morgan faltered uncharacteristically, looking somewhat lost.

 

“No, it’s, um, okay. I’ll let you and Aaron, um I mean Father Hotchner, talk.” Morgan furrowed his brow and crossed his arms over his chest before turning back to the priest who was looking a little like a rabbit stuck in headlights.

 

“Excuse me, Father,” he muttered before beckoning for Spencer to step outside with him. Once they were huddled near the door just managing to stay out of the rain, he rounded on the younger man who flinched. “For God’s sake, I’m not going to hit you, Reid. Is that the guy you’re seeing?” Spencer saw little opportunity to lie, Morgan was a very good profiler after all and Spencer was pretty sure that he’d picked up on the nervous shock on Spencer’s face as he entered the church as well as the subsequent guilt he was radiating so he nodded. “Jesus Christ, kid, complicated much?”

 

“It’s not what you think?”

 

“You’re not screwing a priest?”

 

“No. Well, why am I having to explain my sex life to all my colleagues?” Spencer muttered before realizing that Morgan was still waiting. “We are seeing each other. No sex involved.”

 

“Yet. I heard the yet,” Morgan muttered but he was starting to smile. “He good to you?”

 

Spencer frowned in confusion, “Yes?”

 

“Alright,” Morgan shrugged and clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder.  

 

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell me I’m going to hell?”

 

“Oh,” recognition dawned on Morgan’s perfect features, “That’s what Elle was all bent up about. Nah, not my thing, kid. I’ve got enough hang ups about religion. If a priest wants to get his rocks off with another consenting adult then, way I see it, ain’t my place to get involved. I couldn’t do no celibacy crap. I don’t see why I should hold someone else to standards I can’t reach myself.”

 

“That’s very wise and fair,” Spencer admitted, still somewhat confused.

 

“That’s me, kid. I’ve got depth,” Morgan clapped him on the shoulder again before turning to leave, flipping up his jacket collar as the rain started to fall in earnest.

 

“Didn’t you want to talk to someone?” Spencer stopped him. “I can wait.”

 

“Nah, it’s alright. We had a good talk before you came. He seems like a good man and he’s a good listener.”

 

“He is,” Spencer beamed, happy to hear Aaron praised.

 

“I’ll probably come back on Sunday. You know, sit in and give it a go. Good night, kid.”

 

“Night, Morgan.” Spencer watched him sprint to his truck before ducking back into the church to see Aaron nervously tidying the already neatly stacked pamphlets on a table near the door.

 

“Is everything okay?” Aaron asked, looking like he wanted to step closer but unsure of how that would be received.

 

Spencer closed the distance, pulling the other man into a loose embrace, slightly amazed about how easily they had become so tactile. When Aaron’s fingers clutched at the damp fabric of Spencer’s coat, he wondered if the other man was just as touch starved as he was. “With Morgan, yes. He was surprisingly level headed about the whole thing. I wasn’t exactly looking to share my personal life with him but I don’t regret that it has happened. Other than Morgan, no.”

 

“Come into the back. You must be frozen from the rain.”

 

“Thank you,” Spencer murmured. “It’s been a rough few days.”

 

Aaron led the way, his fingers linked with Spencer’s as they walked down the aisle and into his apartment. Once there, Spencer dropped his bag to the floor and let all his emotions crash over him. “So, remember I told you there was a colleague that was bothering me?” Spencer asked, shuffling miserably just inside Aaron’s door. “Well, she’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

 

“What happened?” Aaron moved forward automatically, reaching for Spencer until his hand was resting on the young man’s hip, rubbing gentle circles against the protruding bone.

 

“Not what you think, but this case was a nightmare all in itself.” Spencer sighed and let Aaron lead him over to the sofa. “She just left. We think she might have met someone and, I don’t know, whirlwind romance Las Vegas style or something. I – um – I find it really hard when people just leave. I guess,” Spencer waved a hand in the air before slumping forward exhausted, “I’ve got abandonment issues.”

 

“I’m sorry, Spence. Were you close?”

 

“I thought so. Up until a few months ago, I would have said she was my closest friend on the team but she’s been different for a while. Erratic. Unpredictable. Violent. She’s been pretty cruel. I guess, she was unhappy for a while.”

 

“Sometimes people just need to get away,” Aaron comforted, wrapping his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. “It’s not reflection on you.”

 

“Except for the fact that a disproportionately high number of people around me leave: my father, my mentor, now my friend. All of them just up and left one day.” Suddenly, Spencer turned and gripped Aaron’s hand tightly. “Promise me that when you leave me, you’ll tell me to my face. No letters. Just tell me in person.”

 

“Spencer,” Aaron gasped and Spencer realized that he was gripping the older man’s hand pretty tight but he couldn’t seem to let go. He was so sure that Aaron would leave one day. It was only a matter of time, after all. He turned away but Aaron’s hand shot up, holding Spencer’s face tightly, angling his jaw until the younger man finally met his eyes. “I will never leave you.”

 

“You can’t promise that,” Spencer murmured miserably, even as he tilted his head further into Aaron’s palm. “You don’t know that.”

 

“I cannot imagine a situation where I would want to leave you.”

 

“What if I started using again? What if I am just like your brother?”

 

Aaron broke the eye contact, a heavy weight seemed to suddenly fall on his shoulders. “You wouldn’t,” he whispered but it lacked the certainty of his previous statements.

 

“I still have some vials at home,” Spencer confessed, dropping Aaron’s hand and trying to break free of his grasp.

 

“Why? Why would you have that in your house?” Aaron looked so hurt.

 

“I had it since before I met you. I just needed it as a safety cushion, if things got really bad, but then I met you. I haven’t even thought about it in two months.”

 

“Throw it out. I want to see you throw it out.” Aaron lurched to his feet, storming to the door and grabbing his coat. “You drove here, right?”

 

“Yes,” Spencer looked slightly confused before realizing that the older man meant that they were leaving now. “Aaron, you can’t just leave the church.”

 

“I’m texting David,” Aaron held up his phone. “He can be here in fifteen minutes.”

 

“Be reasonable.”

 

“I am being reasonable,” Aaron snapped, his eyes flashing in a way Spencer had never seen before. “You want me to not leave you then you do this for me. You do this for me and I will –“ Aaron’s voice cracked, and he turned to the door, twisting his coat between his hands, “I will do anything for you.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer whispered. “Okay. Um, let’s go.”

 

The drive back was tense with an uncomfortable silence settling over them. For once, Spencer had no idea how to talk to Aaron. No idea what to say. Instead, he faced forwards and focused on the roads while wringing his hands over the leather steering wheel. Aaron didn’t even seem to look at him, his face turned away as he watched the rain fall making the streets slick and hushing the sounds of the cars on the road. Spencer wasn’t worried about throwing out his dilaudid. Really, he should have done it as soon as he realized that talking to Aaron helped. Really, he should never have bought it. What worried him was that just by having drugs in his home, he had irreparably damaged his relationship with the man next to him. Elle had just left and now he was afraid he was going to lose Aaron too. What did it even mean that Aaron would do anything for him? He didn’t want the older man to feel beholden to him in any way. That wasn’t the sort of relationship he was looking for. All too quickly, Spencer was pulling into the space outside his home and cutting the engine. His hands fell into his lap as he breathed deeply, trying to formulate what he wanted to say.

 

“If you can’t do this, then I need to leave,” Aaron murmured, his voice low and his face still turned away. He’d unclipped his belt but made no move to leave the car. The rain beat down on the roof nearly obliterating the words.

 

“I don’t have any problem getting rid of the drugs, Aaron. I haven’t wanted them for a long time. I never should have had them in the house. It was stupid.”

 

“So why are you delaying?”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you meant when you said you’d do anything for me. I don’t know what to do with that. All I want from you is what you’re willing to give.”

 

“Let’s go.” Aaron sidestepped the question and straight out of the car, standing in the pouring rain until Spencer led them towards his building. Again, silence reigned as they climbed the stairs and Spencer fumbled with his lock, his fingers already chilled from the rain. When he turned, he was struck by how beautiful Aaron looked even with his hair wet and flattened over his forehead. Spencer’s fingers itched with the desire to brush the long sweep out of his eyes but those eyes were hard, determined, and Spencer simply motioned for Aaron to proceed. “Bathroom?” Aaron asked without hesitance and Spencer wondered how often he had done this for his brother. His stomach clenched with the anxiety of the pain this must be causing him.

 

“Yes.” He brushed past Aaron, leading the way to the end of the corridor where he knelt next to the bath, fingers feeling around the edges of the false front of the tub until he found the indentation he had made, just large enough for him to hook a nail into and the plastic tumbled to the floor. There were three vials in a small plastic take-away box and three needles in a plastic baggy. A length of rubber tubing bound them together and completed his kit. Spencer heard Aaron’s sharp intake of breath and dropped his head in shame. “I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

 

“Is that everything?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is that everything? If I find out you’re lying, this is over Spencer.”

 

“It’s everything. I promise. I promise you, Aaron.”

 

“Get rid of it.” Spencer nodded and stood. His hands were shaking as he unwrapped the tubing and let it fall to the floor. Aaron stopped to pick it up, examining it with distaste. Spencer placed the needles on the side of the sink before tugging open the box. The vials clinked, a sound that used to make Spencer’s soul sing but now made him feel sick. He was suddenly so disgusted with himself. So disappointed that he had allowed drugs to rule him even for the short time that they had. With a sudden surge of white hot anger, he picked up the three vials in his hand and flung them into the tub. The glass shattered on impact, shards flying before settling back in the bottom of the bathtub. Aaron made a small noise that sounded strangely like approval before grabbing hold of Spencer’s arm and spinning him around, backing him up until he impacted with the wall.

 

Suddenly, Aaron’s mouth was on his, bruising and insistent. Spencer struggled, pushing at the other man’s shoulders but Aaron’s grip around his waist tightened. So, Spencer shoved with his hips, feeling a hard length connect with his thigh before Aaron was forced to stagger back.

 

“Don’t do this because you think you owe me,” Spencer shouted, wiping a hand across the back of his mouth. “Yes, you told me to do this but I did it for me. You don’t have to compensate me.”

 

“I’m not,” Aaron suddenly smiled, his eyes warm with molten desire as he took another step closer to Spencer. “I’ve wanted to do this all week. When you called me, I thought about how I was going to greet you with a kiss when you got back from your case but your friend was there and you were so sad, you looked so broken. Then this whole thing came up.” He waved a hand in the direction of the bathtub. “Give me the needles by the way. I’ll take them to the needle exchange. It had to be dealt with but I have to trust you, Spencer. I do trust you. You said this was all you had. You said you haven’t touched it in over a year. I believe you and now I want to kiss you.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer breathed and reached out to pull Aaron back into him. He slowed the pace, calming the man in front of him who, for all his brave words, was still shaking nervously. Soft passes of lips were accompanied by hands that held waists and shoulders. Spencer took a step forward, leading Aaron out of the bathroom, pressing him up against the hallway wall so that he could trace the seam of those thin lip with his tongue. The moan surprised him as Aaron suddenly clutched at his neck as his mouth fell open. Spencer pulled back, enjoying the dazed look on the other man’s face, before he leaned back in and allowed his tongue to trace that open mouth, to dip in enough to gently touch Aaron’s teeth, the barest brush of tongue on tongue before he withdrew. Aaron followed him hungrily, chasing after Spencer as the younger man continued to lead them down the hallway with little kisses until they were able to fall onto the sofa. “Is this okay?”

 

Instead of answering, Aaron threaded his fingers into Spencer’s hair and pulled him into another kiss. This time Spencer let him take the lead, his tongue coaxing entrance to Spencer’s mouth, exploring hesitantly while his hands were anything but as one tightly gripped his hip as the other’s fingers curled in Spencer’s hair, pulling a moan from the younger man. Aaron stilled for a moment before continuing his assault with renewed enthusiasm. Spencer threw his arms around Aaron, nails raking his back through the thick layers that separated them. When he reached Aaron’s neck, he scratched at the short, wet hairs and Aaron pulled away with a sharp gasp. Unable to stop himself, Spencer just angled his head and trailed open mouthed kisses against the other man’s jaw feeling stubble scraping against his swollen lips. “Still okay?” he whispered hotly into Aaron’s ear before teasing the lobe with his tongue.

 

“Spencer,” Aaron practically whined and Spencer pulled back to see the other man looking at him with such desperate desire that he was momentarily stunned. He was just about to move back when Aaron gripped his face with both hands, pressing another kiss to his lips, and another, another, as if he just couldn’t stop himself now that he’d started. Reaching up, Spencer gently covered Aaron’s hands with his own, pulling them down and placing them around his waist again. He dotted a kiss to Aaron’s nose before leaning their foreheads together and sharing slightly ragged breaths. “I didn’t say I wanted to stop,” Aaron grumbled.

 

“Who said we were stopping?” Spencer gently kissed the sharp line of Aaron’s cheekbone. “I just thought you might appreciate some oxygen.”

 

“Overrated,” Aaron murmured with a smile as he tugged Spencer closer to him before letting their lips join again, this time slower, gentle passes with soft breaths, one kiss slipping effortlessly into the next leaving Spencer sighing and achingly hard in his pants. His fingers worked of their own volition, unzipping Aaron’s coat until the older man shrugged out of it and Spencer did the same, throwing his jacket to the floor in irritation. Spencer sort of wished that Aaron was wearing one of those soft, fluffy sweaters he seemed to favour but abandoned the thought when he ran a hand down the rippling muscles of one smooth bicep. Aaron’s hands settled on his lower back and tugged him in closer until their knees were tangled together. Aaron’s tongue darted into Spencer’s mouth again and the younger man sucked on it gently, making Aaron moan deeply before he broke the kiss, panting.

 

“Sorry,” Spencer muttered.

 

“Nothing to be sorry for. It’s just –“

 

“I know,” Spencer assured him and shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware that he was rock hard in his pants. He hadn’t got this aroused from kissing since he was eighteen and his lab partner had pushed him up onto the desk and proceeded to experiment with Spencer in a way that was entirely new to the genius. A quick glance showed a tell-tale bulge in Aaron’s pressed slacks, a bulge that hinted that the other man may have been particularly blessed in that area. Spencer quickly looked away.

 

“Can I stay the night?” Aaron asked, smoothing his hands over Spencer’s hair with a fond smile.

 

The question took Spencer by surprise but then he realized that it was the middle of the night and Aaron probably didn’t want to inconvenience him by asking for a ride home. “Of course. Let me take the couch this time.”

 

“I was thinking we could maybe share the bed.” Spencer sucked in a breath and Aaron dropped his gaze, looking at his own hands. “Just to sleep. If that’s okay.”

 

“Of course. Yes. Um, wait here.” Spencer stood quickly and Aaron smirked.

 

“Are you going to make your bed?”

 

“Quiet you,” Spencer mumbled and Aaron laughed as the younger man fled to his bedroom to tidy up quickly. His heart was hammering in his chest at the thought of spending the night with Aaron but he was determined to be an adult about this. He could surely share a bed without molesting the other man. He’d need to spend a bit of time in the shower beforehand to make sure but that would be taken care of quickly by just replaying some of the kisses they’d just shared. Once all his clothes were hidden in a pile at the bottom of his wardrobe and the bed was pretty neat, he grabbed an oversized T-shirt from his drawer. It should fit the other man well.

 

He walked back into the living room to see Aaron perusing his bookshelves. “You can take anything you want,” Spencer offered and held the T-shirt out to him with a shy smile. “I think this should fit you okay and there’s a towel in the bathroom.”

 

“Thanks,” Aaron grinned back at him. He’d unbuttoned the top of his shirt, his collar lying on the coffee table and exposing that delightful dip in his throat. Spencer swallowed as his body reminded him that he was still half-hard and the merest thought would take him the rest of the way there.

 

“Do you want to shower?”

 

“You go first,” Aaron returned to look at the bookcase but Spencer saw the blush that told him that Aaron knew exactly why a shower was necessary. “Don’t forget about the broken glass,” Aaron reminded him and he nodded, detouring through the kitchen to get a dustpan to sweep up any larger shards before he used the shower head to carefully hose down the tub, making sure nothing remained. When he was finished, he closed the door and thought of Aaron’s knowing little smile, wondering if Aaron would be taking the same actions to deal with the issue. The thought was enticing. Shoving his fist in his mouth, he muffled the groan at the thought of Aaron standing in the shower, water running down his back which was probably as muscled as his arms to his toned ass, one hand bracing him against the wall as he worked himself to orgasm. Spencer’s dick throbbed and he quickly shed his clothes, as he waited for the water to heat up. Reaching for his shower gel, he slicked up his hand before taking his cock in hand and working himself eagerly to what felt like a long denied orgasm. Images of Aaron’s eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, of Aaron’s hair damp and soft between his fingers, of Aaron’s strong arms circling his waist, of the hungry passes of Aaron’s tongue played behind his eyelids as his hand squeezed and tugged ruthlessly, his hips jerking in near desperation. When he came, it felt like it had been torn from his very soul and he was pretty sure that Aaron must have heard that shout.

 

Quickly, he finished his shower and shouted down the hallway that the bathroom was free before slipping into his bedroom to find some pyjama pants. Usually he’d sleep in his boxers but he figured Aaron would be doing that and another layer of clothing between them was probably a good idea. He finally found an old pair of Star Wars pants under his scarves and conceded that organization had its merits as he just managed to pull them up when Aaron gently knocked on the bedroom door. The older man looked awkwardly around the room for a place to lay his perfectly folded clothes before settling them on top of Spencer’s dresser. Unsure of what to say, Spencer folded down the sheets before turning to switch on his night light. Pausing, he blushed. “Sorry, I, uh, I don’t like the dark.”

 

“That’s okay,” Aaron assured him with a smile. “I can sleep pretty much anywhere.” Aaron laid down on the side of bed near the door, lying on his back and Spencer joined him, as close to his edge of the bed as he could get before laying stiffly on his back. Silence reigned as Spencer bit nervously at his lip and tried not to think about Aaron’s long legs and toned thighs, the way that his boxers clung tightly to his muscular quads. He tried not to think about how Aaron was wearing his T-shirt, pulled taut across his chest, and that in the morning it would smell of Aaron. With a mental slap to the face, he flipped onto his side and placed his glasses on the bedside table, resigning himself to a poor night’s sleep, afraid of what his body might do without his conscious restraint. The last thing Aaron probably wanted was Spencer humping his leg in the middle of the night.

 

With an exasperated sigh, Aaron rolled over and Spencer was about to blurt out an apology when strong arms pulled Spencer snug against Aaron’s chest. Spencer couldn’t fight the urge to snuggle back into the other man, tugging his hand over his chest so that Aaron was a long line of heat against his back, their knees slotted together. “Better,” Aaron’s voice rumbled from his chest, “Good night, Spencer. I’ve been waiting to say that to you in person.” A small kiss was pressed to Spencer’s shoulder.

 

“Night, Aaron.” Spencer whispered back, closing his eyes and feel sleep tug at him quicker than it ever had before.


	9. Accustomed

“Good morning,” Aaron murmured into Spencer’s hair when he realized that Spencer wasn’t going to wake anytime soon and he really needed to leave for work. Spencer froze for a moment, and Aaron leaned over him, brushing his messy hair out of his face and watching him blink owlishly. “It’s me.”

 

“Aaron,” Spencer mumbled and let out a contented sigh, snuggling backwards. Aaron gasped slightly as Spencer came into contact with his morning wood and the temptation to thrust forwards was nearly overwhelming but Spencer didn’t seem to notice, in fact Aaron thought he might be falling asleep again. Aaron quietly moved his crotch further away and Spencer rolled onto his back with a snuffle of complaint. “Don’t get up. It’s too early.”

 

“I have to,” Aaron sighed, pressing his cheek against Spencer’s hair and inhaling. “I’ll miss mass.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer clearly tried to shake himself further awake. “Do you need a lift?”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll get the bus.” Spencer blinked again and Aaron couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Spencer’s hesitantly. Spencer opened eagerly beneath him, his arms wrapping around Aaron’s back to hold him closer. Aaron shuddered and thrust his cock against mattress before breaking the contact with a desperate groan. “I have to go.”

 

“I know,” Spencer mumbled but didn’t loosen his grip, pressing feather light kisses to Aaron’s cheeks and jaw. “I’m going to think this was all a dream when I wake up.”

 

“Not a dream,” Aaron assured him with another gentle pass of his lips. “Are you working today?”

 

“I’m just going in to finish up some paperwork so it’s more like a half day.”

 

“Want to meet for lunch?”

 

“Yes,” Spencer managed to crack open his eyes enough to focus on Aaron and smile. “Not a dream.”

 

Aaron laughed softly before extricating himself from Spencer’s tight grip. Standing, he flushed and quickly held his hands over his crotch but Spencer had already rolled over, burrowing back down into his pillow. Aaron smiled at him for another moment before grabbing his clothes from the dresser and retreating to the bathroom. Once there, he curled his hands in the hem of Spencer’s shirt before hesitating and shrugging. Spencer surely didn’t need this shirt right now, he could borrow it for a while. It was a novel experience but he was learning that he really liked wearing Spencer’s clothes. He imagined Spencer, cold one night, wrapping himself in one of Aaron’s sweaters and grinned at the warm flame that sparked in his belly. Squeezing some toothpaste onto his fingers, he quickly rinsed out his mouth and flattened his hair down with some water. It would have to do until he got home. He just hoped that he’d get to the church before Mrs. Pasternak and the other early birds. Guilt quenched his happy feeling and he shoved on his shoes, picking his down jacket up from where it still lay on the floor next to the sofa, tangled with Spencer’s pea coat. He already knew that he couldn’t continue this way for very long but his relationship with Spencer was so new. It seemed optimistic bordering on foolish to leave his vocation already. A few more months and then he’d quietly leave service. Though, he’d need some kind of plan. He brushed the soft fabric of Spencer’s coat, breathed deeply with his face buried in the collar, before placing it on the arm of sofa and tiptoeing out of the apartment.

 

The rain had stopped but the air was chilly and he burrowed his hands into his coat pockets as he waited for the bus. Thankfully, it wasn’t a long wait before he saw his bus turn the corner. At this time in the morning, he was happy that there was only a couple of other people either going home or heading out with their heads down and earphones in. Still, he was glad he wasn’t wearing his collar. Visibly being a priest invited confidences and, while he was usually happy to listen whenever he could, he needed some time to think this morning. It was pleasant being just another anonymous traveller, looking out the window into the early morning darkness.

 

He reached the church just after five, feeling like he was doing the ultimate walk of shame even though nothing had actually happened with Spencer. A peek into his bedroom, showed David still unconscious under the sheets. There was no need to wake him yet, so Aaron jumped into a shower before preparing the church for mass. He was already conversing with Mrs. Pasternak and her friends when David emerged from his apartment with a wry smile and a wink. Aaron rolled his eyes and was grateful that there was no time for small talk before the service.

 

Morning mass had always been his favourite, a fact that had been gently mocked since seminary where the novitiates had been far more like Spencer and had to be dragged from their beds. Aaron liked the calm of the morning, the stillness of the church before any of the congregation arrived, he even liked that relatively few people attended morning mass although he always welcomed every person through the doors with genuine warmness. It was just that, in the morning, he was sometimes sure that he could feel the Holy Spirit still lingering in the half-darkness, waiting to bless the dawn. David took advantage of his enthusiasm and Aaron more often than not led morning mass. This morning was no exception and as he walked behind the altar, he felt all his inner turmoil settle into a tranquil peace as he communed with the Holy on High. As the service drew to a close, he stepped back and was hit with the realization that this is what he would miss the most. These mornings. Still, even without a collar around his neck he could still attend mass. David would never bar the door to him although the rest of the congregation may not welcome him in their midst. His stomach turned as he imagined Mrs. Pasternak staring at him with revulsion. As if sensing his gentle gaze, the older woman turned to him with a small smile and a wave as she exited with her friends.

 

“So what happened last night?” David asked as Aaron sighed heavily and started to remove his robes.

 

“Sorry to call you in at the last minute. I had a personal issue to deal with.” Aaron took both sets of robes and hung them carefully on the hangers, ignoring David’s question for the time being, unsure of exactly what he wanted to tell his friend. He should have known that would only provoke his friend.

 

“Are you still a virgin?”

 

Aaron glared at David. “Are you going to ask me that every time after I see Spencer?”

 

“One time you’re going to say no.”

 

“I would never answer that question.” Aaron grumbled, closing the closet door and straightening his shirt.

 

“No,” David conceded and then smirked, “But I bet your ears will go bright red and I’ll have my answer anyway.”

 

“Today we start planning?” Aaron retreated to make some coffee, feeling his traitorous ears already turning pink.

 

“Ah, my favourite, our annual showdown smack down over the Christmas services.” David leaned against the counter, generally hindering Aaron’s movements.

 

“It’s not that bad. We always end up in agreement.”

 

“Of course, after I’ve quashed your insanity.”

 

“Do you want coffee?” Aaron turned to his friend with a mild glare.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Then get out of my way. Go make yourself useful and get the boxes down.”

 

“You think getting laid would make you less cranky, Aaron.”

 

“I’m not cranky and I’m not getting laid,” Aaron hissed, half annoyed and half despairing. “Remind me why we’re friends?”

 

“I’m just a great guy,” David grinned before sauntering back out into the church to collect their notes from previous Christmas planning sessions. Aaron was amazed that the season was already upon them. It seemed that every year passed quicker than the previous one. Unfortunately, when David returned with two banker’s boxes as Aaron was folding out the table he seemed to have refocused. “So, if you weren’t rushing out of here in the middle of the night to pop your cherry, what was the big emergency?” Aaron hesitated, palms flat on the table, unable to look at his friend, unwilling to lie, unhappy to have to confirm David’s worries about Spencer’s drug habits. “Aaron?” David prompted and Aaron felt he had little choice.

 

“Spencer admitted that he still had some drugs in his home,” David hissed in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I demanded that he get rid of them right at that moment or it was over. Us, whatever we are, was finished.”

 

“And did he?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“All of it.”

 

“He said so and I believe him.”

 

“Aaron,” David started and Aaron knew what was coming and he had absolutely no desire to hear it. He was happy. Conflicted but happy.

 

“David, save it. I know it. I know it all. Addicts are liars. Drugs are more powerful than good intentions.” Aaron finally turned, looking David right in the eye. “Spencer promised me that he’d got rid of everything and I believe him. I truly believe him. I have faith in him. He’s a good man, David and, for whatever reason, he likes me. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

 

David just stared at him for a long moment, his gaze calculating before he nodded once. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“I trust your judgement, Aaron.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Right, so let’s get planning. I don’t suppose, Mary left you any cookies this morning.”

 

Aaron smiled at his friend gratefully, before reaching into the cupboard for the large box that Mrs. Pasternak had pressed into his hands this morning with grin that told him that she remembered that this was the week that Father Rossi and he always set aside to plan the quickly approaching holiday. The cookies always helped when they were at each other’s throats. He opened the tin and allowed David first pick as he brought their coffees over.

 

“Let’s start by going back a few years. I seem to remember 2008 was particularly good.”

 

“Feeling nostalgic, Aaron?” David teased but pulled out the correct files and flicked through them. “Oh yes, the decorations that year were beautiful. Little Ashley Seaver organized those didn’t she?”

 

“Not so little anymore, David.”

 

“I know, she got married this year. Time flies.”

 

“I bet that if we showed these pictures to some of the younger members of the congregations they’d be able to do their own spin on them. It’s good to get them involved.” Aaron mused for a moment. “Maybe Nathan could join in. He never seems to talk to anyone his age at the services.”

 

“God forgive me but that kid creeps me out. He actually came here last night just shortly after you left.”

 

Aaron felt another wave of guilt wash over him. “I should have been here. Did he talk to you?”

 

“No. He wouldn’t stay. Aaron, I can tell by that constipated look on your face that you’re feeling guilty again. Don’t. Firstly, there’s no reason that Nathan can’t come at a normal hour for confession instead of sneaking into the church in the middle of the night. Secondly, that kid’s problems are beyond the scope of the help we can offer.”

 

“He’s just lost,” Aaron murmured, half-heartedly. This was another long-standing argument between them that didn’t need to be re-hashed.

 

“Aaron, that kid –“ Aaron’s phone rang loudly from where’d he’d left in on the table next to the sofa cutting off David’s words. He knew exactly who was calling after he’d programmed a personalized ringtone in for Spencer. The opening notes of Clapton’s Change the World made his stomach flip-flop happily.

 

“Good morning,” Aaron couldn’t help the smile as he answered his phone. David made a retching sound but when Aaron glared at him, his gaze was firmly focused on the print outs of their homilies from previous midnight mass services. Aaron had wanted to do something a bit different this year but he said that every year. David, for all his irreverence, always cast a vote for traditionalism.

 

“Morning,” Aaron could hear the shy smile in Spencer’s voice and stood from the table, walking into his bedroom and closing the door.

 

“It wasn’t a dream,” Aaron confirmed, teasing slightly.

 

“I know!” Spencer exclaimed with a laugh. “But it’s still good to hear it. You’re okay, right?”

 

“Not having a crisis,” Aaron assured him. “Are we still meeting for lunch?”

 

“I’d like that. Do you want me to bring something to you?”

 

“Well, I don’t actually have any commitments today. David and I are planning the Christmas services but the same thing happens every year. We argue for a few days and then we go away and work on it individually before combining our plans. I don’t mind missing today’s bickering.” Aaron took a deep breath as Spencer chuckled, “I thought we could maybe meet in Springfield. There’s a really nice diner there. If you want.”

 

“Sounds great,” Spencer sounded surprised. Aaron knew this was a big deal. Their first date outside of either of their homes. Aaron was confident that he wouldn’t see anyone he knew in Springfield and, even if he did, he was allowed to have lunch with a friend. It wasn’t as if Spencer would be groping him under the table, would he? “Aaron?”

 

“What?”

 

“I said, is one o’clock good?”

 

“Yeah, great. I’ll text you the address of the place.”

 

“Okay, great. I can’t wait to see you.”

 

“Me too.” Aaron assured him before hanging up and returning to the plans spread across the small table in his kitchen.

 

“I do not bicker,” David grumbled.

 

“You do eavesdrop.”

 

David waved him off, “What do you expect? Your love life is the most interesting thing to happen since I met you.”

 

“I’m sorry I was so boring,” Aaron muttered. “Still not one of your telenovelas, though”

 

“Of course not, they give me more detail that you do and that’s pre-watershed. Come on. Give me something to work with.”

 

Aaron flushed, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck before sighing and giving in to his friend’s badgering. “We kissed.”

 

“First kiss?”

 

Aaron nodded before amending, “Well apart from that awful time when I tried to throw myself at him.”

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

“Very much. What about if we just changed a few of the hymns. We could pick something a little more modern than While the Shepherds Watched Their Flocks?”

 

“You want to cut Silent Night while you’re at it?” Rossi grumbled. “And what are you going to replace it with Wham’s Last Christmas?”

 

“Of course not,” Aaron shot his friend a despairing glance before a sly grin broke out on his face, “Wonderful Christmas Time?” David glared at him. “McCartney is a song writing genius.”

 

“Sinatra’s Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas?”

 

“Might as well pick Santa Baby,” Aaron grimaced at his friend. “Fine. O Come, O Come Emmanuel.” David considered it for a moment before nodding his approval. “I’m dragging you into the twenty-first century old man.”

 

“Excuse me. Which one of us has an X-Box and which one has a record player? I just think that when it comes to Christmas, if it’s not broken then don’t fix it.”

 

“How about this year we skip all the arguing? I’ll plan my service. You plan yours. We’ll meet again in three days and hammer out a final draft.”

 

“See this is what I mean?” David groused. “No respect for traditions. Don’t think I don’t know that you just want the time to prepare for your date.”

 

“It’s just lunch,” Aaron protested.

 

“What are you going to wear?”

 

Aaron stumbled for a moment over the question, realizing that again wearing his collar wouldn’t be exactly appropriate. His limited non-work related wardrobe was suddenly getting a lot of use. “The brown sweater with jeans?” Aaron asked.

 

“Which jeans?”

 

“I only have two pairs,” Aaron muttered. “The other ones. The dark ones.”

 

“Wear the grey crew neck sweater. The lighter colour will bring out your eyes more.”

 

“How do you even know this stuff?” Aaron grumbled but obediently went to his room to get his outfit together as David followed him.

 

“I’m Italian. It’s in my blood.” Aaron laid the outfit out on his bed and turned to his friend for approval. “Very good. Now come argue with me for a couple more hours. You don’t need to leave until after eleven.”

 

*****

 

Spencer was waiting outside the door of the diner when Aaron walked up, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and his messenger bag hung over his shoulder. His nose was buried in a book but he looked up as soon as Aaron stepped closer, with an awareness of his surroundings that belied his distracted appearance. Aaron flushed as his eyes ran up and down Aaron’s body, settling on the jeans that were pulled more tightly around Aaron’s quads than he remembered them being when he’d bought them a few years ago. Apparently, all his cycling was paying off.

 

“Hey,” he greeted Spencer with a light kiss to his cheek, ignoring the urge to look around first.

 

“Hey,” Spencer greeted back, grinning broadly. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“You too.” Aaron took a deep breath and grasped Spencer’s hand as they walked through the door into the diner. He was sure everyone would be staring at them but most of the diners didn’t look up from the plates or turn their attention away from their conversations. They were seated at a booth in the back, Spencer ducked into the corner that would have his back to the wall and his eyes to the door. Aaron sat across from him and fiddled with the menu before feeling the weight of Spencer’s gaze.

 

“You know, we don’t have to do the big gay PDAs,” Spencer smiled at him. “You don’t need to prove anything, Aaron.”

 

“I know that,” Aaron protested. “I just – I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss your cheek. I like those things. I guess I get a little worried about what people will think. This is all new to me.”

 

“And we’re going at your pace,” Spencer shrugged, unconcerned. “I must admit, I’m not usually the most tactile person. No shaking hands, as you know. I think most of my team think I’m haphephobic. But when I’m in a relationship, I tend to be a little bit of a koala.” Aaron chuckled at the image. “I like to hold the person I like but I’ll only ever do what you’re comfortable with and I usually only do it in private.”

 

The waitress came and took their orders before leaving them in the relative quiet of their corner. A question that had been gnawing at his mind suddenly formed and Aaron figured that now was as good a time as any to broach it. He folded his napkin, then folded it again, his eyes on the table in front of him before he managed to get the words out. “So, have you been in many relationships?”

 

“Not really,” Spencer sat forward, resting his hands on the table top. “Do you want my sexual history?”

 

“No, of course not.” Aaron protested, though, really, he kind of did.

 

“Well, I guess that I’ve had one long term relationship in my life. It was when I was finishing my studies. We broke up shortly before I moved to DC.”

 

“Oh, because you moved?”

 

“No. Well, ostensibly, but we never would have gone anywhere. He was a professor of mine. I know. It seems like a have a type: older, forbidden men.” Aaron winced and Spencer grasped his hand until he looked up. “It wasn’t like that, though. We were friends who should never have slept together but we did and then we kept doing it for a few months but that’s all it ever was. We shared a field of interest but had nothing to talk about. We never did anything like this.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron murmured. Spencer was looking at him so earnestly that he felt assured. “And other than that?”

 

“I have slept with both men and one woman. I didn’t realize I was gay at first. I thought that I should want to sleep with women so when I turned eighteen I slept with a friend who had shown some interest in me. I spent the whole time imagining she was another male mutual friend. It wasn’t fair to her. I realized then that I had no sexual interest in women.”

 

“There was a girl at my high school,” Aaron confided the same story he had told David. “I saw her in the drama group. She was blonde and pretty, athletic and bubbly. For a few weeks, I had this fantasy that we would get married and have two cute blonde children called Jack and Mandy. We’d have a dog and a big house. I never once thought about having sex with her. I guess I figured the kids would just appear along with the kids and the dog.”

 

“How old were you?”

 

“Fifteen or sixteen. David said something about how I should have been fantasizing about putting my hand up her sweater at that age.”

 

Spencer laughed. “Probably. I wouldn’t know. At that age, I was finishing off my first PhD. I didn’t have time for thinking about putting my hands anywhere other than down my own pants when the need got too strong.”

 

The waiter brought their food with a slight blush on her cheeks that suggested she’d heard the tail end of that conversation. Spencer coughed out an awkward thanks as she placed his plate in front of him. She grinned and scurried away. Aaron squeezed some ketchup over his fries and raised one to his mouth before murmuring softly, “Up until a couple of weeks ago, I hadn’t masturbated in over two decades.”

 

Spencer coughed on his mouthful of onion rings and took a big gulp of water in an attempt to clear his throat. Aaron managed to calmly keep eating, although he was sure his hands were shaking slightly. Casually talking about that sort of thing was utterly alien to him, not just because of his vocation but also because of his upbringing. Still, he had to bite back a smile when he looked up to see a sort of dazed look on Spencer’s face. “Aaron,” the younger man murmured, his voice slightly rougher, hoarser, probably from choking.

 

“So, how was your morning at work?” Aaron asked and after a moment, Spencer shook himself.

 

“Good. Just paperwork. Morgan mentioned that he might come to mass on Sunday if we’re in town. He seemed to like you.”

 

“That’s good. This is David’s week but I’d be happy to talk to Morgan afterwards.”

 

“Did you get anything planned for Christmas?”

 

“Not really. It’s the same arguments every year. I think David enjoys the arguments most of all. We’ll probably end up doing something similar to every other year but I like making an attempt to mix things up a bit.”

 

“I look forward to coming to whatever it is.”

 

“Oh. You’ll stay for Christmas too?”

 

“Christmas is the worst for my mom. All the lights and baubles are excellent places to hide listening devices. I usually go see her around either her birthday or mine. Those are safer times.”

 

“I’m sorry, Spence.” Spencer shrugged and Aaron had an idea. “Usually, David and I do something together on the 26th. We just go out for Chinese food but it’s nice. You should come with.”

 

“I’d like that,” Spencer smiled. “But only if I wouldn’t be intruding. You should ask Father Rossi first.”

 

“He won’t mind but I’ll ask.”

 

They finished up their meal in companionable silence and Aaron was thinking about asking Spencer if he wanted dessert before the other man checked his watch and sighed. “I’m sorry that I can’t stay long. I have to drive out to Connecticut later this afternoon.”

 

“You’re driving? Not flying?” Aaron asked as he signalled to the waitress to bring their bill.

 

“Ah, it’s not a case. Chester Hardwick has decided he’s ready to talk. He’s due to be executed three days from now.” Spencer shrugged. “It’s not unusual for someone to get talkative right before the end.”

 

“Sounds like he might need a priest,” Aaron half-quipped but his stomach felt all tied up in knots at the thought of Spencer sitting down for a casual chat with a man who had probably done some pretty horrific things. “Will Morgan be going with you?”

 

Spencer frowned, a glare brewing behind his eyes. “I can look after myself.”

 

Aaron held up his hands in protest. “I have no doubt about that. I just don’t know the names of anyone else on your team.”

 

“Oh, well, there’s Emily. I think you’d like her a lot. JJ is our media liaison. We went on a date once but I didn’t get it was a date until after it was over. Elle – oh, Elle left.” Spencer twisted a sugar pack between his fingers before visibly shaking off Elle’s absence. “Garcia is our technical analyst. I don’t know what she does but she does it well. And our team leader is Max Ryan. I’m still getting to know him. But no one is going with me. We’re one team member down and our team is on call this week.” Spencer glanced at Aaron’s face, which must have betrayed some of his fear at Spencer being alone with a serial killer. “Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of guards around. Nothing will happen.”

 

“Okay, I guess you’re the expert.”

 

“Can I drive you home? I can head straight out from the church onto the I-295. It should only take about six hours but I’ll find a motel along the way to sleep and prep for the interview.”

 

“That would be great. Call me if you get a chance.”

 

“I will. Honestly, Aaron, you worry too much.”

 

Aaron paid the bill despite Spencer’s protests and followed Spencer back to a black SUV that screamed FBI and looked totally incongruous with Spencer behind the wheel.

 

“I didn’t drive into work today,” Spencer explained before Aaron even asked. “And anyway, the Amazon isn’t the most fuel efficient for long drives. Not that this beast is much better but I’m not paying for the gas.”

 

Spencer pulled up outside the church and cut the engine, turning to Aaron with a small smile. “I’ll call you sometime tonight.”

 

“Good. Great.” Aaron looked around quickly. The street seemed pretty deserted. “These windows are tinted, right?”

 

“The front windshield isn’t,” Spencer gestured at the windscreen in confusion.

 

“Yeah, um, okay,” Aaron looked around again before leaning in and pressing a fleeting kiss to Spencer’s lips before darting back. “That was reckless.” His heart was pounding in his chest. “I’ll miss you.”

 

“You too,” Spencer grinned. Aaron nodded once and tried a smile but he was still feeling a bit sick at the thought that he had kissed Spencer outside the church in the middle of the day. He opened the door and got out the car and walked into the church before realizing that he’d forgotten to say goodbye.

 

That thought nagged at him for the rest of the day up until Nathan walked through his door again close to midnight, shaking, with his lips blue from the cold.

 

“Hello Father Hotchner. I came to see you last night but you weren’t here.”

 

“I’m sorry, Nathan.” Aaron assured the young man. “I had some personal business to attend to. You can always confess to Father Rossi.”

 

“Father Rossi doesn’t like me,” Nathan whispered miserably. The younger man always whispered, forcing Aaron to lean in closer to him in order to hear. He could see the boys chapped lips, the dark circles under his eyes, the metallic smell of blood hit him unexpectedly. Aaron stopped short, feeling suddenly afraid.

 

“Nathan, is there blood on your coat?” Aaron waited, unsure that he even wanted an answer to his question, as the younger man rubbed at his nose.

 

“Oh, yeah. A guy punched me on the way over here. I don’t think my nose is broken but there was a lot of blood. It tasted like rust.”

 

Aaron dismissed that last comment. “Why did he punch you? Do you want to report the assault?

 

“Can I tell you about it in the confessional?” Nathan’s eyes darted around the empty church nervously.

 

“Of course.” Aaron turned and walked towards the wooden booth. He could imagine what had happened. Nathan had probably been lurking in the alley off the main road, watching the girls work and one of the Johns probably hadn’t taken too kindly to being spied on. As he walked, he reached into his pocket and reluctantly turned his phone off. He really hoped he wouldn’t miss Spencer’s call but Nathan needed someone to talk to and that took precedent.

 

By the time Nathan left the church it was nearly one. Aaron stumbled to his rooms and turned his phone back on. He had no messages but maybe Spencer hadn’t left one. He considered phoning the young man but he didn’t want to wake him. He needed all the sleep he could get before the interview tomorrow. Just as he was resigning himself to bed, his phone lit up and Clapton started playing from the little speaker. His stomach flipped and all his weariness fell away.

 

“Hey, I didn’t wake you, right?” Spencer greeted him, sounding tired.

 

“No. I had a late night confession.”

 

“Oh, I thought that was my area.”

 

“You and one other. How was the drive?”

 

“Uneventful.”

 

“Did you sit in silence the whole time?”

 

“Yes,” Spencer responded slowly. “Oh, you think I should have played music.”

 

“I’ll make you a mixtape.”

 

“That’ll be good for the Amazon. She only has a tape deck.”

 

“It was just an expression but I’ll hustle up some cassettes. I’m sure we have some in storage here. What time is the interview tomorrow?”

 

“Around eleven. I’ll be heading in early. The security into death row is tight.”

 

“I’m sure.”

 

“I’ll probably crash somewhere on the way back too. I’ve no idea how long the interview will take. It mainly depends on what he’s willing to share.”

 

“Is it bad that I hope it’s very short?”

 

“No, part of me does too. It’s the worst part of the job, sympathising with the bad guy, getting into their head.” Aaron heard the rustle of blankets. “It’s exhausting.”

 

“Are you in bed?”

 

“Yes.” Spencer paused for a moment and Aaron heard him swallow. “Are you?”

 

“No, sorry. I’m sitting on my sofa.”

 

“Ah, no need to apologize.”

 

Aaron hesitated, weighing whether or not to share this or not but the words tumbled out anyway: “My bed seems very lonely. I mean, I know it was only one night so that’s stupid but I liked sharing a bed with you, holding you.”

 

“I liked it too,” Spencer whispered back. “I had a great night’s sleep.”

 

“I know,” Aaron agreed. “Would it be okay if we did that again sometimes? I mean, not every night. I have to be at the church but maybe sometimes I could stay over.”

 

“I’d like that.”

 

“Okay. Well, I better let you sleep. You’ll need to be alert tomorrow.”

 

“Good night, Aaron.”

 

“Night, Spencer.” Aaron hung up the phone before he could say anything else stupid like the three little words that were always threatening to spill out. It was too early to talk of love. Even he knew that with his absence of experience. And yet, there wasn’t any other word that fit what he was already feeling for Spencer. He wasn’t lying, all of a sudden his bed seemed cold and empty. He glared at it through his bedroom door before resigning himself to a sleepless night. Hopefully, he could hammer out his plan for the Christmas services and smugly hand it to David in the morning. With that thought, he started going through his record collection for his old seasonal favourite. The Boys Town Choir recording from 1953 never failed to put him in a Christmas mood, even if it was unseasonably early in his opinion.

 

Aaron was able to hand David a completed plan for his updated version of the Christmas services but the older man was nonplussed and his only comment was that Aaron looked terrible and that he should really get some more sleep. That wasn’t going to happen. All day he was on edge, checking his phone for a message from Spencer, irrationally worried for his safety. It was silly. He was never this worried when Spencer was on a case but at least he had this team with him in the field. This one-on-one in a locked cell made Aaron feel claustrophobic. Time seemed to crawl other than when he had his weekly meeting with the church’s basketball team. Basketball had never been his sport, but there was no baseball diamond that was easily accessible and the equipment would have beyond the budget of the church anyway. So, Aaron had taught himself the rudimentary elements and then persuaded George Allan to help him coach. George had been all set for a scholarship before he’d blown out his ACL in his last year of high school. He’d done well with continuing to run his father’s hardware store but Aaron knew that he lived vicariously through the young men he coached and hoped that each and every one of them would manage to make it to the NBA and fulfil his dreams.

 

By the time Aaron was done coaching, it was already dark and frost was threatening to form on the net. He was exhausted. His sleepless night finally catching up with him as he had a quick shower, changed into pyjamas and collapsed into his bed only to be woken up a few hours later by the opening bars of Change the World.

 

“Are you in a car?” Aaron asked, sleepily as he heard an engine rumble over the speaker pressed to his ear, unable to even lift his head from the pillow.

 

“Yes,” Spencer answered quickly and Aaron could hear the gentle beeping of the indicator.

 

“I thought you were spending the night?”

 

“I decided to drive straight home.”

 

“What went wrong?”

 

“Why do you assume something went wrong?”

 

“Spencer,” Aaron sat up in bed. “What went wrong?”

 

“I’m pulling up on your street now. Can I come in?”

 

“Of course.” Aaron grabbed his robe to wrap around himself as he padded to his door. He’d reached the entrance of the church just as Spencer slumped out of the driver’s side of a black SUV. Aaron wanted to hurry across the road to meet him but he hadn’t put on any shoes and his feet were already frozen on the hard floor of the church. Spencer pulled out a bag from the back seat and, with a visible sigh, shouldered it before walking across the road. When he caught sight of Aaron in the open doorway, a broad grin split his tired face.

 

“Hi,” Spencer muttered, hesitating on the doorstep before Aaron ushered him in and into an embrace.

 

“Hey,” Aaron whispered back, holding Spencer close, fingers tangling in his hair. “How long have you been driving?”

 

“Um, about seven hours. It wasn’t too bad.”

 

“I thought you were staying at a motel half way.”

 

“I wanted to see you. It was – it was unpleasant.”

 

“I can’t imagine interviewing a serial killer is ever pleasant,” Aaron murmured. “What made this so bad?”

 

“He – um – he had a plan to kill an FBI agent so that his death sentence would be suspended.” Aaron gripped convulsively at the back of Spencer’s cardigan, knotting his fingers into the material. “I managed to talk my way out of it but it was unnerving.” Spencer attempted a nonchalant chuckle and missed it by a mile, “I guess I do some of my best work under extreme terror.”

 

“God, Spencer, I wish I’d been there.”

 

“What would you have done?” Spencer asked bemusedly.

 

Aaron huffed out a laugh but didn’t let go. “Probably antagonise the situation. I imagine I’d get quite violent if your life was being threatened.”

 

“I can’t imagine you being violent. I mean, you’re a man of God.”

 

“Plenty of men of God have brandished a sword.”

 

“I’m really tired and that sounds vaguely dirty,” Spencer chuckled and pulled back to press a kiss to Aaron’s lips.

 

“Come to bed, then.”

 

Spencer looked incredibly confused. “You mean sleep in the confessional again.”

 

“No, of course not. We do have fold down cots if someone needs them. I just didn’t want to wake you that night. No, I meant come to my bed, with me, if you want.”

 

“Aaron,” Spencer hissed. “We’re in a church.”

 

“I had noticed,” Aaron deadpanned before kissing Spencer again. “You’ll have to wait until everyone has cleared out from mass to leave. I mean unless you were going to get up in about two hours and leave before.” Spencer made a small pained noise. “Come to bed, Spencer.”

 

“Are you sure?” Spencer still hesitated, even as Aaron took his hand and attempted to lead him towards the back of the church.

 

“Why did you come here?” Aaron turned to him, still holding tightly onto his hand.

 

“I wanted to see you,” Spencer answered with a frown. “You make me feel safe.”

 

“Good. Let me hold you and keep you safe all night, or what’s left of it.”

 

“I’ll probably have nightmares.”

 

“I’ll hold you through them.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer whispered and followed Aaron through his door and into his bedroom, looking at the rumpled sheets that Aaron had left just a few minutes earlier. He dropped his messenger bag with a thump and started tugging at his tie before pausing. “I’ll go get changed in the bathroom.”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Aaron assured him. “I’ll face the wall or something.” Aaron laid down in bed, closing his eyes. He heard the tell-tale rustle of clothes and forced himself not to peek, feeling his pulse speed up at the thought of Spencer undressing within arms’ reach. The mattress dipped and Aaron turned to see Spencer sliding under the sheets. Aaron suddenly realized that his bed was substantially smaller than Spencer’s, a double rather than a queen, and when Spencer had settled, their limbs were pressed together from shoulder to calf. Slightly nervously, Aaron turned over his palm and breathed a sigh of relief when Spencer grasped at his fingers. Rolling onto his side, Aaron laid his free hand on Spencer’s waist and the younger man turned to face him, their eyes connected in the silence of the room where all that was heard was their gentle breathing. Their hands slid apart as they grasped at each other’s hips in unison. Their lips met, gingerly at first but the thought that Spencer could have died just hours earlier, fuelled their fire and soon their tongues were tangling. Acting on instinct, Aaron shoved his knee between Spencer’s legs but the younger man pulled back with a gasp, his eyes wide even in the half-light cast into the room from the kitchen.

 

“Your feet are freezing!” Spencer gasped and Aaron laughed. He’d suddenly been afraid that he’d done something wrong.

 

“I was barefoot when I met you at the door.”

 

“I’m buying you slippers for Christmas,” Spencer grumbled but he pulled Aaron in closer, allowing the older man to warm his chilled feet against his calves. Their legs tangled and Aaron suddenly found Spencer’s thigh pressed against his groin as they continued to kiss. He imagined what it would be like to thrust against that, to come in his pants as he breathed heavily into Spencer’s mouth. Could he do it? Could he pull Spencer on top of him and push one hand down his boxers until the younger man was shaking and coming all over his palm? He wasn’t even sure what Spencer liked, if he would want that. Barely knowing what he liked, didn’t exactly qualify him to give pleasure to another person. Aaron broke the kiss, breathing heavily. Spencer didn’t move away but seemed to be giving the older man the space he needed.

 

“I’ll need to think of a present for you,” he murmured, hands still clutching at Spencer’s T-shirt. Spencer hummed his agreement and when Aaron looked back up, the other man’s eyes were heavy, almost shut. “Sleep, Spencer. I’ll be here.”

 

“I know.”

 

*****

 

“David,” Aaron pulled his friend aside as he walked back in at the end of mass, after shaking hands with the stragglers and smiling into his usual genial way. “Spencer is sleeping in my rooms, just in case you were planning on going in there.”

 

“Really?” David raised an eyebrow but refrained from further comment until the church was empty. “That’s quite bold, Aaron.”

 

“He needed some comfort,” Aaron argued, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “He came to me.”

 

“Of course he did.” David paused for a moment before smirking. “Still a virgin?”

 

“David.” Aaron stalked in the direction of his apartment, huffing in frustration when David strolled after him nonchalantly, catching the door with his hand as Aaron attempted to let it swing shut in his friend’s face. Spencer was standing in the kitchen area, in just his boxers and a T-shirt, glaring intently at Aaron’s drip coffee maker as if he could make it work faster through sheer force of will. When the door shut, he turned with a greeting that morphed into a startled meep when he realized that Aaron wasn’t alone.

 

“Morning, kid.” David greeted him, cheerfully, settling onto the sofa unperturbed by Spencer’s embarrassment or Aaron’s glare. “Make me a cup too, please.”

 

“Of course, Father Rossi,” Spencer squeaked and pulled another mug from the top shelf. Aaron’s eyes fell hungrily to the patch of skin that was revealed above the elastic of Spencer’s boxers and David coughed pointedly.

 

Aaron ignored him, stepping over to fridge to retrieve the milk. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Very,” Spencer smiled at him, his glasses perched on the end of his nose and Aaron had to stifle the urge to lean in and kiss him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his hands off Spencer the more physically involved that they got. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like when they had sex. Though maybe this was all just unresolved sexual tension. Maybe Spencer would lose all interest after they went to bed, especially if Aaron was a let-down. Spencer frowned at him, and one hand seemed to reach for his face before Spencer glanced over at David. “What are you thinking about?” the younger man murmured instead, wrapping both hands around his mug.

 

“Nothing important.” Spencer just looked at him in disbelief. “We can talk about it later.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that. I, um, I’m going to go put some pants on.” Spencer blushed again and Aaron took over making the coffee as the younger man retreated to the bedroom.

 

“He seems comfortable,” David commented as Aaron grudgingly handed him a cup of coffee.

 

“He can hear you,” Spencer shouted through the bedroom door.

 

“Good,” David shouted back.

 

Aaron just shook his head. This was the first time he’d seen them interact but somehow he wasn’t surprised. Hell, they’d probably get along like a house on fire once they got passed the initial awkwardness. “I was hoping that Spencer could come to our December 26th dinner,” Aaron spoke loud enough that he was sure Spencer would be able to hear.

 

“Of course.” David answered blithely before he got a little glint in his eye. “Hey, didn’t you say the kid could cook?”

 

Spencer appeared in the doorway, buttoning his cardigan. Aaron felt slightly disappointed. “Not a kid but, yes, I enjoy cooking.”

 

“So we could have the meal at your house.”

 

“Are you inviting yourself to dinner?” Spencer asked looking somewhat perplexed.

 

“Of course not,” Aaron glared at David at the same moment that the other man succinctly answered, yes.

 

“Um, okay.” Spencer nodded. “If I get a case then you’ll have to think up other plans.”

 

“Spencer, you don’t have to do this,” Aaron assured him.

 

“I don’t mind. I like cooking and it’s more fun feeding other people.”

 

“You look like you could do with feeding yourself more, kid. Seriously, Aaron, buy the boy a cheeseburger.”

 

“I think he looks fine,” Aaron protested.

 

“Well, that much was obvious.” David stood, brushing off his slacks. “Well, I better get going to the soup kitchen. I’ll see you two crazy kids later.” Spencer nodded his goodbye as David left the apartment.

 

“You don’t have to have us over,” Aaron repeated. “We can go out like we do every year.”

 

“Really, Aaron,” Spencer stepped close enough that he could wrap his arms around the older man and Aaron relaxed into the embrace. “I like cooking. You’ll be more comfortable behind closed doors as well.” Aaron opened his mouth to protest but Spencer just pressed a kiss to his lips and derailed his train of thought. “By the way,” Spencer continued, stepping back just enough to be able to see Aaron’s face. “I was too tired to notice last night but did you steal my T-shirt and were you sleeping in it?”

 

Aaron could feel his ears getting extremely hot. “Yes, sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize. I like it. I like it a lot. Anyway, I better get going. I have a dinner to plan.”

 

“It’s almost a month away,” Aaron protested, unwilling to let Spencer go.

 

“I also have to write up a report on the shambles of an interview with Hardwick. Strauss is going to find a way to blame it on my incompetence if I don’t tell my side as quickly as possible. Sorry. I’ll call you later.”

 

“Alright. Just wait one moment. Take your cardigan off.” Spencer quirked an eyebrow but did as requested while Aaron retreated to his bedroom pulling out on of his favourite sweaters in a deep brown with a zip neck. He held it out when he returned to the living room. “Would you – would you wear this, maybe?” Spencer grinned and pulled the fleece over his head. It was baggy on his thinner frame and his hair was all frizzy from the static but Aaron thought he looked beautiful. He pulled him back into his body, burrowing his nose in the neck and smelling a mix of himself and Spencer. “Thank you,” he murmured.

 

“My pleasure,” Spencer smiled back. “It’s always my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I don't know why this is turning into a Christmas fic in September. I'm so sorry. I am a firm believer in no Christmas before Halloween but this happened and I'm running with it.   
> 2\. Hotch always wore lot of Arc'teryx on the show so if you want to know what Aaron is wearing here (the brown sweater, his coat, etc.) it's that brand. I want their entire catalogue because they are so pretty but so expensive.


	10. Thankful

Spencer spent his entire drive to work nuzzling his nose into the collar and warmth of Aaron’s sweater. When Aaron had woken him this morning with a soft kiss and a mumbled apology, he’d cracked open his eyes to see Aaron stretch his arms above his head, exposing a small strip of toned belly. That T-shirt had seemed familiar and Spencer’s brain had fumbled sleepily for why before Aaron had turned around and he’d seen the words I’m A Mathlete! scrawled across the shoulders in  bright red comic sans. So, he’d taken his shirt home and was apparently sleeping in it. Spencer had nestled down back under the comforter with a broad grin on his face and had only been awoken again by the soft sounds of singing drifting in from the church. He’d felt a little like a dirty secret, wrapped in Aaron’s blankets with his boxers riding up on one thigh while he listened to the cadence of prayer on the other side of the wall, but he knew that it couldn’t be any other way. At least, not at the moment. Staring at the cracked ceiling he’d imagined that one day he’d be able to publicly be in a relationship with Aaron. Sitting in the diner together, walking in holding hands, had felt so wonderfully natural and he selfishly wanted that all the time but he understood how much Aaron loved his job, how much he felt it was his calling. That was certainly a feeling he could identify with. Where this relationship was going was definitely something they would have to sit down and talk about at some point but the future could wait. At that moment, coffee mattered more than anything. Coffee and finally removing his contacts before they were permanently sealed to his retinas.

 

Once he brushed his teeth and slid on his glasses, he glared angrily at Aaron’s ancient drip coffee machine as it seemed to take an age to make a pot of coffee. That could be another idea for a Christmas present because this was just unacceptable. At the sound of the door opening, he’d turned to whine to Aaron about how slow his coffee maker was but the words had stuck in his throat as Father Rossi stepped in behind Aaron. Both men in long sleeved black shirts, pressed black slacks, shiny shoes whose lustre matched the blinding strip of white beneath their chins. He’d never felt as exposed as he did standing there in just his boxers, his undershirt nearly slipping off one shoulder. Polite had seemed to be the correct tact to take but he’d forgotten who Father Rossi was in his embarrassment and it hadn’t been long before he’d been sniping at the other man, though that was remarkably easier once he had some pants on, slipping on his cardigan as another layer of armour against the heat in Aaron’s gaze, which was still tinged with an edge of insecurity. The night before when they’d been undulating together under the sheets, he’d felt the firm line of Aaron’s erection against his thigh and had wanted nothing more than to roll the older man onto his back, to slide down his body and see exactly if Aaron was as blessed in that area as he felt. He’d longed to taste him, to run his tongue over every inch of that body and find out exactly what sounds Aaron would make. The passion in Aaron’s kisses had been a wonderful surprise and had made him reassess what Aaron would be like in bed. Suddenly, the meek lover he’d been imagined had morphed into a man who moaned, groaned, grabbed with slightly shaking fingers that soon became demanding with desperation. It was all Emily’s fault with her ideas of an explosion of repressed sexual desire. Still, despite the way his desire was poised on its tipping point, he’d felt the change in Aaron’s body, the sudden tension when Spencer’s thigh exerted pressure on what was surely an impressive cock. Aaron didn’t need to say the words. Spencer knew he wasn’t ready and he would be damned before he’d do anything without Aaron’s express permission. Well, he was probably damned anyway for corrupting a priest but he didn’t much care about the state of his eternal soul. He didn’t really believe such a thing existed and if it did, well, he’d happily burn in hell if he got to hold Aaron for the rest of his mortal life. He wasn’t sure how they’d become so committed to each other but it felt right, even if the sexual side of the relationship was still somewhat unsure.

 

That same insecurity, hesitance, was what he’d seen in Aaron’s eyes this morning and it was about time they talked about that too. For a relationship that was founded on long hours in a confessional, there was a remarkably high number of subjects that they seemed to avoid talking about. Having that discussion with Father Rossi in the room was definitely not an option so he’d dropped it. For now. It was a discussion that deserved a good dinner and probably some alcohol. Not at this dinner on the twenty-sixth, though. He’d really need to think about what he was going to make for that. They’d probably be sick of turkey so not that. Spencer wasn’t a big meat eater but he figured Father Rossi probably was so maybe a compromise on chicken. Roasted potatoes. Everyone loves roasted potatoes. Spencer pulled into one of the parking spaces designated for the FBI fleet of SUVs and handed the keys into the guard. No Brussel sprouts, he continued to plan as he stepped into the elevator, nodding to a couple of people he recognised, so maybe broccoli and cauliflower. No asparagus, just in case he and Aaron were sexually active by that point. Not that he had any expectations but he wasn’t going to inflict weird tasting cum on Aaron or himself.

 

“Well, well, someone had fun last night!” Morgan’s teasing tone rang out across the bullpen and several agents turned to stare at Spencer who ducked his head.

 

“I drove back from Connecticut last night,” Spencer corrected, nodding hello to Emily who was also inexplicably smirking.

 

“And how’s Aaron?” Morgan drew the name out with a smirk.

 

“He’s fine.”

 

“Was he fine all night long?”

 

“What does that even mean?” Spencer asked, head cocked to one side and that was when the collar of Aaron’s sweater brushed against his ear and he looked down, realising that he hadn’t changed in the car like he had been intending to, too wrapped up in his plans for dinner. “Oh.” Morgan’s laugh was deep and rolling, while Emily rolled her eyes at the both of them. “I, um, it’s just a sweater.”

 

“Yup,” Morgan popped the P and leaned back in his chair until the springs creaked warningly, “but it’s not your sweater.” Spencer shifted and blushed before looking to Emily, pleading her to be the adult here.

 

“How was the interview?” she asked.

 

“Ultimately uneventful,” Spencer shrugged, though he flashed her a grateful smile for changing the subject as he dropped into his seat and pulled forward the correct forms to file in case of a total clusterfuck of an interview. Form 47B with Appendix 12.

 

“What did he want to talk about?”

 

“Oh, he didn’t. He wanted to kill me to get his execution suspended.”

 

“Shit, Reid!” Morgan’s joviality dropped away. “Why didn’t you call us?”

 

“I had to leave my phone at the security check,” Spencer answered with a furrowed brow.

 

“Not while you were in there!” Emily explained exasperated. “After. You should have called us.”

 

“I just drove straight back to DC,” Spencer confided in a whisper, his fingers nervously spinning a pen. “I drove straight to see Aaron.” There was utter silence from his teammates, suddenly the background noises of phones and printers, doors slamming and agents laughing, rushed in deafeningly. Spencer looked up to see both of them staring at him with small smiles. “What?”

 

“That was adorable,” Emily finally said, her voice thick.

 

“Yeah, kid.” Morgan ruffled his hair as Spencer batted at his hand. “We can forgive you this one. So it’s the real deal with your priest?”

 

“I guess so,” Spencer admitted, chewing at his lip. “I mean how do you know?”

 

Morgan and Emily exchanged a look before shrugging. “You’re asking the wrong people, Pretty Boy.”

 

“I think you just know,” Emily said helplessly. “So are you spending Thanksgiving together?”

 

“That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?” Spencer hadn’t thought about it. Aaron knew that he wasn’t going back to Las Vegas but he hadn’t thought about them actually spending the time together. Did Aaron have any other family? Sean was in prison. His parents were dead. He’d never mentioned any other siblings. Maybe he spent it with Father Rossi. “I, ah, I don’t think so. What about you guys?”

 

“Heading straight to Chicago from here,” Morgan kicked at his go bag with his boot. “I’m coming back Saturday afternoon since we’re still the on-call team.”

 

“Mother has insisted I join her. I’m hoping my attendance will be enough leverage to excuse myself from at least some of her Christmas events,” Emily sulked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m also hoping to be late, so pass me a couple of your reports.” Morgan grinned and happily handed her a few files.

 

“You’re just going to hand them off to me,” Spencer mumbled, “Though I don’t have any plans. I just need to think of the best way to phrase: My interview was pointless because the psychopath acted like a psychopath. Strauss is going to rage about the waste of resources.”

 

“Strauss thinks the fact that we need hotel rooms is a waste of resources,” Morgan pointed out.

 

“Or that we eat,” Emily muttered. “Have you talked to Ryan about it?”

 

“I don’t really feel comfortable around him,” Spencer admitted, “I’m not sure what he’d say.”

 

“He’d have your back kid,” Morgan stated but Spencer could tell that the confidence in that statement was feigned. None of them really knew Ryan yet so his actions or support remained a wild card. “I don’t think he came in today, though. Not that you need him. I’m sure if you thought that you were going to get anything out of Hardwick then you would have stayed.”

 

“I don’t know. I mean, at first definitely not. He was entirely intent on beating me to death like he had his victims.”

 

“We’re going to work on your hand to hand,” Morgan interjected.

 

“I can coach you at the firing range as well,” Emily supplied, “we should have done this earlier.”

 

“Um, thanks. Not actually as weak as I look, but thanks. Anyway, so I started profiling him, pulling out bullshit about how he never had a chance because of his childhood. I made him stop, think. It gave enough time for the guards to finish their shift change and get me out. I warned them that he should remain chained from now on. Apparently, they were under the opinion that he was quite harmless. But when I was leaving, afterwards, he, um, he asked me if that was true. He asked if it was true that he never really had a chance.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I told him I’d been talking shit but maybe, maybe if I’d said yes then he would have started talking. I was just so angry and scared. I just wanted to get out of there.”

 

“Dr. Reid,” Strauss’ shrill voice rang out over the bullpen as she stood on the gangway. “I trust you’ll have that report to me within the hour. Did Chester Hardwick have a lot to say?”

 

“No, ma’am.” Spencer stated, not looking up from his hands.

 

“So it was a wasted trip.” Strauss pursed her lips. “I expect some justification for your lack of results. How many nights in a hotel will you be charging?”

 

“Just one, ma’am.” Strauss glared at him before huffing out a breath and flouncing off back to her office.

 

“Ah, fuck her.” Morgan counselled him.

 

“I’d rather not,” Spencer mumbled back.

 

Morgan grinned and smacked him on the back. “As for Hardwick, man, I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But I do know you and if you’d thought you could have got more information about his victims to help the families you would have stayed. Hell, if you thought there was something you could have done to help Hardwick, you would have fought through all the fear and stayed. You’ve got a big heart, kid, too big sometimes but I don’t doubt that you made the right call.”

 

“Thanks, Morgan,” Spencer smiled sincerely at the other man.

 

“No problem,” Morgan nodded. “Hey, so I’ll be back here on Sunday and I was thinking maybe I’d give your church a chance. Lord knows my Momma will be happy if I tell her I’m thinking about going back to church. It’ll get me an extra portion of pie.”

 

“I’m glad your priorities are in the right place, Derek,” Emily smirked at him.

 

“Hey, any man would sell his soul for another slice of Momma Morgan’s pumpkin pie.”

 

“I’ll be there too, I think,” Spencer told him, redirecting the conversation.

 

“Good, I want to meet your man properly too. You know, give him the speech.”

 

“There’s a speech?” Spencer furrowed his brow.

 

“Yeah, you know, the whole ‘hurt him and no one will find the body’. You’re like a little brother to me, kid. I don’t care he’s a priest. I’m gonna put the fear of God into him.”

 

Spencer’s mouth just flapped open and closed for a few moments before Morgan flashed him another blinding smile and returned to his desk, working with a conscientiousness that was usually absent from his work ethic and clearly motivated by the renewed inspiration of pie. When had he found friends and a family? He hadn’t realized that all these people at work cared about him so much but, since Aaron had been revealed, he’d suddenly discovered that he had a support network all along. JJ smiled and waved at him as she walked through the bullpen to leave some files on Ryan’s vacant desk and Spencer reconsidered all the invitations to dinner from her that he’d turned down. He’d always assumed that they were out of pity, begrudgingly offered, and that JJ sighed with relief when he had another excuse but maybe she actually wanted to be his friend. Hell, if uber-jock Derek Morgan considered him a friend and even a little brother then it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. A previously unknown warmth kindled in his belly as he glanced back and Emily and Derek, both focused on their work, and he knew that if he stumbled again like he had after Gideon left then he’d have plenty of people he could turn to. Of course, he’d look to Aaron first but he knew that he could phone Emily. He knew that he could ask Morgan if he wanted to get a beer and, for the first time, in his life, he didn’t fear a rejection. This year, it seemed, he had a lot to be thankful for.

 

Spencer flew threw his report, the words slipping easily from the end of his pen as the realization that Morgan was right sunk in. He would have stayed if there had been some merit in doing so but Hardwick wasn’t going to give him anymore. If he had returned to the interview room, one of two things would have happened: Hardwick would have reconstructed his impenetrable armour, or he would have wanted to continue the pity party that Reid had constructed with his words. Neither would have been a productive use of Bureau time. Now, he just had to hope that Strauss would be reasonable and come to the same conclusion. Morgan had already waved his goodbye and practically run out the door, by the time Spencer handed his report to Strauss’ secretary. She smiled encouragingly at Spencer and motioned for him to wait outside. Apparently, Strauss planned on reading it right away and then calling him in for a discussion. Seriously, didn’t she have a family or someone who were waiting for her at home? Still, without a choice, Spencer settled into one of the hard blue chairs that lined the corridor outside of Strauss’ office and prepared to wait. His report wasn’t short. It would take her a good few minutes to get through it.

 

He’d phone Aaron after work and see what his plans were for tomorrow. Spencer hadn’t really celebrated Thanksgiving since he was a child. When his father left, the holidays had simply become another day to get through. Christmas decorations were out of question as the clutter aggravated his mother’s paranoia for listening devices and hidden cameras. Easter was for little kids and Spencer was already having to be an adult. There hadn’t seemed like there was a lot to be thankful for so Thanksgiving was forgotten. The only holiday Spencer had continued to enjoy was Halloween. He’d put on a mask and be a different person, a person without a sick mother and responsibilities beyond his years. He wondered what holidays at the Hotchner household had been like. Maybe Aaron would want to talk about it. Aaron had taught Spencer the value of talking about painful memories. He wanted to give Aaron the same gift.

 

“Dr. Reid?”

 

Spencer sighed heavily, returning Strauss’ secretary’s sympathetic smile and prepared to defend his actions to a woman who only cared about keeping their department under budget.

 

“So, how’d it go?” Emily asked as he returned to the bullpen.

 

“As well as expected,” Spencer flopped down into his chair. “I may have reminded her that the cost of paying out my life insurance in case of being killed while on the job was far more considerable than the cost of gas for a round trip.”

 

Emily snorted, then looked at her watch and sighed. “I better get going if I’m going to look presentable for all mother’s guests tonight. I’m sure she’s invited someone’s son that I’m meant to fall in love with so I’ll finally settle down and start a family. She wants grandbabies. At least it’s not Christmas.”

 

“What happens at Christmas?”

 

“Christmas itself is usually okay. It’s the day after. She has this big party with lots of foreign dignitaries and tends to parade me around to all the eligible bachelors. It’s awful but I never have a good excuse.”

 

“What if you had other plans?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“Um, I’m having Aaron and Father Rossi over to mine for dinner.” Spencer cleared his throat and tugged nervously at the too short arm of Aaron’s sweater. “You could come too, if you like. I, ah, I don’t think Father Rossi would hit on you.”

 

Emily broke into a wide grin. “I love that you’re unsure if the priest is going to hit on me. What sort of church is this that you stumbled into?” Spencer shrugged and Emily kept grinning. “Sounds like my kind of place. Yes, thank you Spencer. I would love to come to yours. Thank you.”

 

“It’s not a problem,” Spencer smiled back at her as she dropped her files into her outbox and started to pull on all her layers. “Have a good Thanksgiving.”

 

Emily wished him the same and disappeared out of the bullpen which was already practically empty, everyone rushing home to be with their families for the long weekend. Spencer sighed and started packing up. Well, he’d phone Aaron and maybe he’d get to see him later.

 

Spencer pulled his phone out his pocket and dialled Aaron as he walked to the metro. “Hey,” he greeted him warmly. “Your sweater is really cosy.”

 

“Did you wear it all day?” Spencer could hear the warmth in Aaron’s voice.

 

“I did. Morgan and Emily teased me a little but it was like a security blanket when I hand to deal with my penny-pinching boss.”

 

“I’m glad. Are you going home now?”

 

“Yeah, will I see you tonight?”

 

“I don’t know. We’ve got to organize everything for tomorrow. It’ll be a late one.”

 

“Oh, um, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

 

“We make a big meal at the soup kitchen for anyone who wants to drop in and have a Thanksgiving dinner. There’s usually a pretty big turnout.”

 

“That’s great,” Spencer tried for sincerity but he couldn’t help but feel saddened that it sounded like he wasn’t going to see Aaron tomorrow either.

 

“What about you?”

 

“Um, I don’t really have any plans.”

 

“Would you – you don’t have to – I just – we always could use more volunteers. Usually we vet them in advance but with you being in the FBI and being my – my – with me knowing you I think I could get you in.”

 

“Oh, okay, sure. What time? Where is it?”

 

“I’ll text you the details. I better go now.”

 

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

 

“I miss you,” Aaron whispered into the phone.

 

“You too,” Spencer whispered back and held his phone to his ear long after Aaron had hung up before shaking himself off and walking briskly to the station. Winter was really starting to set in and already the sky was dark, the air chilly enough that Spencer wished he’d remembered his gloves as he shoved them further into his pockets. He spent the journey home buried in a book he’d picked up a few weeks ago but hadn’t had a chance to read on the Spanish Civil War.

 

Spencer had just put his key in the lock when his phone buzzed with a text. Aaron had sent an address and a time, saying that he was looking forward to seeing Spencer tomorrow and the younger man couldn’t help but agree. As he wandered into his apartment, throwing his keys into the little dish near the door, he realized how empty it seemed, almost like it echoed. As he threw his clothes into the washer, he allowed himself to imagine what it might he like to come home to another person. As he heated up water for pasta, he wondered if Aaron would stand next to him, chopping the vegetables that lay on the chopping board, their hips bumping. Later, when he slid between his cold sheets, he hoped that soon Aaron would be there to warm him up and hold him through the night. It was definitely time that they had a talk about the future. He vowed to take the initiative at the first opportunity that presented itself.

 

He arrived early at the shelter but there was already a queue of people out front and a host of volunteers bustling around, laughing. Aaron spotted him as he came in the door, pulling off his gloves and unwinding his scarf. He’d considered wearing Aaron’s sweater but he thought that might be somewhat provocative and he really didn’t want to do anything to make Aaron uncomfortable. However, he found himself somewhat discomfited as Aaron emerged from behind a long table to reveal a faded pink gingham apron tied around his waist. That was simply just unfair. As the other man walked towards him with his small smile, Spencer mind twisted off into fantasies of Aaron greeting him at the door in just that apron, Aaron turning as he retreated to the kitchen exposing a tight ass and toned legs.

 

“Thank you for coming,” Aaron greeted him warmly, his hand gripping Spencer’s arm for a second before he stepped back to a respectable distance.

 

Not coming quite yet, Spencer thought as he tried to focus anywhere other than the frilly trim of the apron and the thought of ducking his head underneath and sucking Aaron’s cock as the other man’s fingers curled on the Formica countertops of his kitchen. “What can I do for you?” he asked and promptly felt his cheeks heat up.

 

Aaron looked a little confused, running a hand down the front of his apron and Spencer felt it like a current to his cock. “Well, I thought since you like to cook, you can help in the kitchen. It’s mostly already prepared but they need help chopping vegetables for side salads and moving stuff in and out of the ovens.”

 

“Are you in the kitchen?” Spencer asked, praying that Aaron wouldn’t be. If he bent over in that apron, Spencer wasn’t sure he could be held responsible for his actions.

 

“No, I’m out front serving.”

 

“Alright.” A wave of disappointment still passed through him at the thought of not spending the day with Aaron.

 

“Father Rossi is back there so he’ll set you up. I, um,” Aaron’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I’d like to see you afterwards. If you’re not busy. I thought, maybe, you could come back to the church with me. It should be quiet tonight, we can listen to music or something.”

 

“Sounds good.” Spencer murmured back, trying not to lean in too close. “Should I bring a bag?”

 

“Yes. Ah, that would probably be a good idea.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer visibly shook himself. “Well, I’ll go back to the kitchen.”

 

Aaron nodded, smiling warmly and turning to the next volunteer who had come in after Spencer. Spencer stared for a moment before retreating through the door to the next room full of industrial ovens and steel surfaces covered with dishes of turkey, mashed potato, cranberries. The other side seemed to have more pie than even Morgan could eat. “Kid!” Father Rossi greeted him warmly, wiping floured hands on a tea towel before pulling him into a one armed hug. “Let’s put you to work.”

 

“Sure,” Spencer grinned as Rossi propelled him across the room.

 

“Pick an apron. Did you like the one I picked out for Father Hotchner?” Spencer didn’t answer but apparently his blush was visible even though his face was already flushed from the heat of the kitchen as Rossi laughed heartily and slapped him on the back. “You can put your coat and bag in a locker and then I need you to start chopping tomatoes. Lots of hungry families to feed today so let’s spread the love.”

 

Despite his brief embarrassment, Spencer found himself grinning as he tied a black apron with a print of the Swedish Chef on it around his waist and stationed himself in front of a mountain of tomatoes ready washed for a salad. The room was full of laughing and singing. The young woman next to him with mousy hair and a shy smile, chopping cucumbers and throwing them into a big bowl, introduced herself as Maeve. She talked softly in a low voice that soothed Spencer and they found a common interest in science that made the hours fly by as they were re-directed to dish duty. Occasionally, Aaron would pop his head in with a small smile and ask how they were all doing, his eyes pausing on Spencer and his gaze heating when their glances met.

 

By the end of the day, even Spencer was grinning broadly as the volunteers sat down together to eat what was left of the mountains of food. Aaron sat at the head of the table and a group of middle aged woman instantly clamoured around him, monopolizing his attention. Spencer smirked as he noticed Aaron look at him in slight alarm at the sudden barrage of flirtations but there was no way Spencer was putting himself in the middle of that. He knew from experience that they were likely to start mothering him if he sat anywhere near them. Instead, he sat at the other end with Maeve and a guy called Adam who’d been serving all day. Eventually, the day wound up and the last vestiges of the meal were cleared away. Spencer said goodbye to Maeve, grateful that she wasn’t the hugging type and walked down the road to the church, letting himself into Aaron’s unlocked apartments and waiting for the other man to finish saying his goodbyes.

 

After about half an hour of perusing records, Spencer heard the door open and Aaron call out to him in a tired voice.

 

“I’m in the bedroom,” Spencer replied still looking over the back cover of Crossroads by someone called Cream.

 

“Hey, oh you found the Clapton. One of his songs is my ringtone for you.”

 

“You personalized your ringtone for me?” Spencer asked with a smile.

 

“Yes. Is that really juvenile?”

 

“I have no idea. I think it’s sweet. You need to think of one for you on my phone.”

 

“What like a Judas Priest song?” Aaron asked with a wry smile before he tugged his clerical collar away from his throat and started undoing buttons. Spencer felt his mouth go dry as Aaron continued to distractedly toe of his shoes and pull open his belt. “Or maybe Son of a Preacher Man?” He looked up and Spencer realized that his face must have been a picture of unconcealed desire.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

 

“No, I, ah, I wasn’t thinking. I’m tired.”

 

“I’ll go to the bathroom,” Spencer offered, turning to get what he needed out of his bag.

 

“You don’t have to,” Aaron murmured, stepping closer to Spencer, his hands resting on the other man’s waist as he turned in his grasp.

 

“I really do, until I know exactly what you’re ready for. I won’t push you Aaron.”

 

“I know,” Aaron leaned in and Spencer allowed their lips to meet briefly. “Thank you. Tonight I just want to hold you but you’re probably right about changing in different rooms.”

 

“It’s okay, I need to put my glasses on anyway.”

 

“I really like your glasses.”

 

“I’d noticed,” Spencer admitted, dotting another kiss to Aaron’s lips. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

By the time Spencer had finished in the bathroom, Aaron was dressed in pyjama pants and a different T-shirt than the one Spencer had left him. He’d have to give him a few more shirts. Aaron brushed passed him, running his hand down Spencer’s arm and leaving goose bumps in its wake before taking his turn in the bathroom. When Aaron slipped under the covers he adopted his now familiar position, wrapped around Spencer’s back with his freezing feet between his calves.

 

“Thanks for coming today,” Aaron murmured, nuzzling into Spencer’s hair.

 

“I enjoyed it.”

 

Spencer felt a small amount of tension enter Aaron’s arms where they were wrapped around him and braced for something serious. “You were talking to that girl a lot, did you get along well?” Aaron’s voice was overly casual and Spencer turned until he could see Aaron’s face but the other man wouldn’t meet his eyes.

 

“Are you jealous?”

 

“No, not at all.”

 

“Good because I gave her my number.”

 

“What?” Aaron’s eyes snapped up to him looking wounded.

 

“As a friend, Aaron. She works in genetics. We had a lot to talk about. You can be jealous but get it under control. I’m allowed to have friends. Also, you know I’m gay but even if she was male, I’m committed to you. I am with you.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry. Of course you can have friends. I’m sorry.”

 

“Anyway, how was I meant to think about anyone other than you in that apron?”

 

“The apron?”

 

“Yes,” it was Spencer’s turn to drop his gaze. “It was surprisingly distracting.”

 

“Well,” Aaron’s voice was suddenly thicker. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

Spencer nibbled anxiously at his lip before deciding that this was as good a time as any for this discussion. “She asked if I was single and I said no but I couldn’t say anything, you know, about you. I really wanted to tell her about my awesome boyfriend? Partner? What are we calling each other?”

 

“Partner probably,” Aaron replied after thinking for a moment, running his fingers through Spencer’s hair and making Spencer want to purr. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t tell her anything about me.”

 

“I’m so proud that your mine.” Aaron ducked his gaze. “I mean, I talk about you at work but I want to do all the cheesy stuff like shout it from the rooftop.”

 

“I know. You’re not my dirty little secret,” Aaron assured him, answering Spencer’s unvoiced fear.

 

“I know that. I do. It’s just – it isn’t really sustainable.”

 

“I have realized that. I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do when I leave the church.”

 

“You don’t have to do anything rash.”

 

“Do you think this is a short term thing, Spencer?”

 

Spencer looked at the anxious look on his partner’s face and felt no fear about being honest. “No. I think I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

 

“Good. I do too. So, I need a new profession. You don’t have to worry about supporting me financially. I inherited from my parents and, although I gave most to the church, I have enough to tide me over until I find another job.”

 

“I wasn’t worried. I earn a good salary anyway. What do you want to do?”

 

“I don’t know. I still want to give back to the community. I thought about looking into social work, maybe, I think I’d like to work in the LGBTQ community. I haven’t got any firm plans but – what do you think?”

 

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

 

“Alright. Well, I’ll start looking into it next week.”

 

“That was an easier conversation than I was expecting.”

 

“I’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” Aaron admitted. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things.”

 

“Really? What else?” Aaron’s eyes darted to Spencer’s lips and Spencer licked them slowly. “Oh. Right.”

 

“You’re not bored of waiting are you?”

 

“No. Not at all,” Spencer assured him, pulling their bodies closer together.

 

“When we do, you know, have sex, I’m probably not going to be very good.”

 

“No,” Spencer whispered against his lips. “I think it’s going to be amazing.” He brushed their lips together before pulling back again. “When you’re ready, we’ll take our time and you’ll be so relaxed you’ll open up and your body will know exactly what to do.” Spencer sealed their lips together, plunging into Aaron’s mouth and relishing every groan. Aaron’s hands clung to his back, nails scraping over flesh through his shirt. Aaron was a gold mine of passion. Spencer could definitely wait because, as he gave in to his urge and rolled Aaron onto his back and kept kissing him, careful not to grind down too much, they’d have the rest of their life together.


	11. Initiation

Spencer hadn’t seen Aaron since Friday morning as they’d both been busy with work and he’d found it increasingly difficult to sleep at night. Apparently, it was ridiculously easy to become addicted to falling asleep to Aaron’s breath on his neck and his strong arm around his waist. The upshot of this was that he was running late for Sunday morning mass and ignored his phone as it buzzed in his pocket until he’d finished parking. Stepping out into the icy wind, he thought he recognized Morgan’s truck further down the street, which was confirmed when he looked at the text. Morgan had sent him a where are you? Outside, Spencer replied as he hurried down the street and slipped into the church just as the service started. He spotted Morgan sitting at the back and slipped in next to him.

 

“I thought you weren’t coming, man,” Morgan whispered.

 

“I like to come late,” Spencer whispered back. “Avoid the whole meet and greet part.” Plus, he’d slept in. Aaron stepped up behind the lectern, eyes scanning the crowd until they lighted on Spencer with a barely perceptible smile, which Spencer returned before ducking behind his hair. When he looked up, Morgan was looking at him with an odd look on his face. Spencer quirked an eyebrow in question but his friend just shook his head and returned his attention to the front.

 

The service was on Revelations 22, focusing primarily on passages about the River of Life and being thankful for what God provides. Spencer let the easy cadence of Aaron’s deep voice wash over him as he tried to understand the burning fire of positivity and optimism that still motivated the other man and underlined his homily. It was not an easy thing to understand in his and Morgan’s line of work where they were forced to confront the dregs of society at every moment. He thought of Hardwick who was due to be executed tomorrow and felt nothing but Aaron’s voice intoned: Let the evildoer still do evil, and the filthy still be filthy, and the righteous still do right, and the holy still be holy. Morgan next to him hummed his agreement, nodding his head. Spencer turned his focus to his co-worker, his friend and saw a peace in him that he rarely saw.

 

Turning, Morgan whispered like it was his greatest secret, even though Spencer thought he already knew Morgan’s darkest secrets: “We used to go to church every Sunday with my Dad. I stopped going when I was a teenager. I prayed for help and no one answered my prayers.” He stopped for a moment but didn’t seem to be expecting Spencer to say anything. “Still, it’s comforting.”

 

“I know. I don’t believe but it’s still nice.” Spencer would never believe that an invisible superhero-like character in the sky loved him but he could appreciate that the idea could offer comfort. Although that was somewhat balanced by the fact that billions of people had been killed in His name over the centuries. Really, was it that hard to believe in God and not be a total dick? Aaron managed it. Father Rossi managed it. Plenty of others did to but he wondered how many people sitting around him would turn on Aaron if and when it came out that he was in a homosexual relationship. He wondered how many of the people in this room would push and shove for the opportunity to cast the first stone. “I mean, most of the time.”

 

Morgan nodded and they lapsed into silence. Standing when the others stood. Sitting back down. Morgan sang the hymns with a surprisingly pleasant tenor voice. Neither man took communion but waited patiently for the service to end and for Fathers Hotchner and Rossi to step down into the congregation.

 

“Let’s go get a coffee and come back in half an hour. Aaron’s usually free by then,” Spencer ushered Morgan out of the church and they walked down the street to a nearby Starbucks where they ordered and sat in the back corner, both looking at the door.

 

“What were you thinking at the start?” Spencer asked, fiddling with a sugar packet, a spray of white granules cascading over the smooth surface of the table.

 

Morgan took a long sip of coffee and Spencer thought that maybe he hadn’t understood the question but then Morgan sighed and focused on his friend. “When the two of you look at each other, even in a crowded room, it’s like no one else is there. That night when you walked in to the church when I was talking with him I noticed it but we were the only people there. It happened again this morning. It’s a beautiful thing, man, but it’s dangerous. I mean, people are going to start noticing. You can’t keep this a secret forever and you shouldn’t want to.”

 

“I don’t,” Spencer whispered. “We started talking last night, you know, about the future but I feel so guilty that Aaron is going to have to give up his career for me.”

 

“Ain’t nothing for you to feel guilty about. He’s a grown man. He can make his own decisions but there’ll be repercussions. Are you ready for that? You’re going to have to support him through all the shit that is going to come crashing down on him.”

 

“Of course. No question.”

 

“Well, then I guess you’ll be okay. What’s he going to do?”

 

“Still not sure. He wants to work with the LGBTQ community.”

 

“If he’s good with young people then he should focus on that. They need the guidance.”

 

“He is. He got the kids in the community to design the window in the church.”

 

“I was looking at it. That is one badass stained glass window. Really cool. The neighbourhood I grew up in wasn’t too different from this one and we really needed programmes to remind us that there was more to life than gangs and drugs and getting shot by a trigger happy cop. And you need good people running those programmes.” The unsaid reminder of Carl Buford weighed heavily on the end of that sentence, the horror of when someone sick and twisted managed to manipulate their way into a position of power and respect.

 

Spencer nodded and gripped his coffee tightly. “He could go to school. I can support us in the meantime. I mean, if he wants to.”

 

“So you’re going to move in together?”

 

“Yeah, of course. I’d be happy if he moved in tomorrow.”

 

“Wow, kid, the sex is that good!” Morgan teased and Spencer dutifully blushed.

 

“Let’s get coffees for Aaron and Father Rossi and head back. You can do your threatening act and then go away.”

 

“Way to make me feel wanted,” Morgan bumped their shoulders together and Spencer looked at him in confusion, he hadn’t been in Morgan’s way, before he took in the other man’s smile and realized that it had been a gesture of camaraderie. He returned it, knocking Morgan slightly off balance as he looked at Spencer in surprise before chuckling and nodding his head in appreciation. Spencer felt himself grinning all the way back to the church.

 

“Aaron?” Spencer asked, poking his head in the door. Aaron was sitting on the sofa writing in the notebook that Spencer knew he used to write his homilies. He looked up with a smile, shutting the notebook and setting it on the side table. “I brought Morgan to meet you properly.” He stepped in and motioned for Morgan to come with him. His friend strolled in with an ease that Spencer always envied. Derek Morgan just moved with smooth confidence whether he was in a raid, in a club, or apparently in the rectory of a church meeting his co-worker’s partner. Spencer felt a small thrill of excitement run through him at the thought that he had a partner to introduce to his co-workers.

 

“Hi, I’m here to threaten you with bodily harm.”

 

Aaron raised an eyebrow but reached out to shake Derek’s hand. “Okay. Should I make some tea or coffee before that?”

 

“We brought the coffee,” Spencer stepped in handing a cup to Aaron, “and some pastries. Also, he’s mostly joking.”

 

“Oh, right. Good.” Morgan was still hold Aaron’s hand, his grip apparently quite tight if the tension around Aaron’s eyes was anything to go by.

 

“Cut it out, Morgan. Don’t act all aggressive.”

 

“He’s like a little brother to me,” Morgan said, his voice low. “You hurt him and I will end you.”

 

“I have no intention of hurting him,” Aaron stated simply but he was holding Morgan’s gaze easily, unintimidated.

 

“Woah, the testosterone levels in here are out of control. Do I need to get a spray bottle to calm them down?” Rossi said with a smile as he emerged from the bathroom. “Ooh, pastries.”

 

“We brought coffee for you too. I think they’ll be okay or I’ll slap them both.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare, kid,” Morgan grinned at him. “He’s terrible at hand to hand. And with a gun.”

 

Spencer crossed his arms. “That is not true. Okay, fine hand to hand is not my strongest suit but I’ve got better on the firing range and you giving me a whistle didn’t help.”

 

“Why did he give you a whistle?” Aaron asked, finally extracting his hand.

 

“So I could whistle for help. It was after I failed my re-qualification, which I passed at the next possible chance. I just had an off day.”

 

“I could help you,” Aaron offered as Rossi brought another chair in from Aaron’s bedroom and they all sat down in a slightly uncomfortable circle.  

 

“You shoot?” Morgan asked in surprise.

 

“He’s very good. It’s all a bit wrath of god when you see him at the gun range with his collar on.”

 

“With Robert Mitchum?” Spencer piped up and everyone looked at him as he shoved another piece of cookie in his mouth. “What? I told you I watch movies.”

 

“You watch crappy 1970s B-movies?” Aaron asked in amusement.

 

“Well, clearly you’ve seen it too,” Spencer grumbled.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Morgan complained.

 

“I was referring to the actual wrath of god,” Father Rossi added, “as in: leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.’”

 

“Well, that’s a quote taken out of context,” Aaron grumbled but he was smiling at Spencer who blushed as he felt the gentle tease in the smile at the fact he’d shoved another cookie in his mouth when Morgan tried to reach for it.

 

“Am I the only one here who can’t quote the whole bible? And I saw that, Pretty Boy.” Morgan picked up a croissant and obnoxiously licked it before placing it next to his empty coffee.

 

“Pretty Boy?” Aaron spluttered.

 

“I know. It’s a terrible nickname.” Spencer stuck his tongue out at Morgan.

 

“It’s apt,” Father Rossi argued and continued before Spencer could complain. “So were you doing the speech when I came in?” he asked Morgan.

 

“Yeah, you know the one.”

 

“I should have gone that route. I gave him my blessing but I tell you this kid,” Father Rossi rounded on Spencer who swallowed nervously even as Aaron rubbed his forehead with his hand and mouthed an apology. “If you hurt him I will go full on Call of Duty on your ass. You know what, I’m old school Long Island and I left all that behind a long time ago but don’t you think I don’t still know people who know people.”

 

“Are you threatening to kill me? Spencer gaped, “That is definitely not Christian.”

 

“Then you better be good to him or I’m breaking the faith.”

 

“I liked it better when you were sanctifying our fornication,” Spencer muttered and Aaron choked on his coffee as Morgan burst out laughing. “No need to go all Bushwacker on me.”

 

“Who’s Bushwacker?” Father Rossi asked, slipping back into his relaxed pose and snagging the last Danish.

 

“Ah, Marvel villain, he used to be a preacher. He fights Daredevil. The CIA trained him and gave him a gun for an arm.”

 

“I need Garcia here as an interpreter,” Morgan sighed.

 

“Well, there’s a career option for you.” Father Rossi smiled at Aaron. “Get the FBI boys here to hook you up.”

 

“He’s a bad guy,” Spencer complained. “Aaron definitely is not.”

 

“I think social work sounds like a better career choice, if you want my vote,” Morgan piped up and Spencer nodded his agreement.

 

Father Rossi stood, brushing crumbs from his slacks. “Probably but best to keep your options open. Well, I am going home for a bit before we’re back on this evening. I’ll see you crazy kids later.”

 

“I’ll head out too. I’ve got to gut a kitchen before sanding the floors. See you at work tomorrow, Spencer. It was nice meeting you both.” Rossi and Morgan walked out together, leaving Spencer perched on the sofa while Aaron looked slightly shell-shocked in the chair.

 

“I don’t know what just happened,” Aaron admitted with a small smile.

 

“I think they meant well,” Spencer shrugged before motioning for Aaron to join him on the sofa. The older man slid over and pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips before drawing back, his thumb brushing over his cheek.

 

“Hi,” Aaron whispered. “I missed you.”

 

“You too,” Spencer admitted, ducking his head as his whole body relaxed into the light touch. “I’m finding it increasingly hard to sleep alone.”

 

“Glad to hear it’s not just me,” Aaron admitted. “I’m exhausted.”

 

“What’s bothering you?” Spencer asked, leaning back and looking carefully at his partner who did have dark rings under his eyes, tight lines at the edges. “There’s something bothering you.”

 

“It’s nothing really, just a confession that’s weighing heavily on me.”

 

“Is it the same person? The one who comes for the late night confessions.”

 

Aaron tried a smile but it looked more like a grimace to Spencer. “Don’t interrogate me, Spence. You know I won’t tell you anything. I can’t.”

 

“But it’s bothering you. It’s upsetting you.”

 

“It’s part of the job.” Aaron gently extricated himself from the grip Spencer had on his arms.

 

“Is it that teenager? The one with the sunken eyes? I saw him here once.”

 

“Spencer. Enough.” Aaron tone brooked no argument but as Spencer stared at him he could see the haunted look in his slightly bloodshot eyes.

 

“What does he confess?”

 

“I won’t tell you that.”

 

“Are you afraid of him?”

 

“No. I’m not afraid of him.”

 

“Then why won’t you tell me?”

 

“Confession, as you know, is kept in confidence. What he has to say is only between us and God.”

 

“If it was something illegal, would you tell me? If it was something dangerous.”

 

“I would evaluate the situation at the time but probably not.”

 

“Aaron.”

 

“I have spoken to David and after tonight’s mass he will stay here so I can come to yours, if you want that.”

 

“Of course I do,” Spencer would have had to been entirely braindead not to notice the change in subject but he dropped it for now. “I’ll make us some dinner. What time will you be around?”

 

“Probably about nine.”

 

“Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” Spencer stood, grabbing his bag and heading for the door before stopping and turning, hesitating. “I care about you, that’s all.”

 

“I know. I understand that.” Aaron closed the distance between them, one hand carding into Spencer’s hair as he tilted his head and kissed him again. “I love you.”

 

“Oh, I ah, oh, yes. I, um, love you too.” Spencer choked slightly on air before his fingers twisted in Aaron’s belt loops and pulled the other man in tight against his body. Their lips sealing as Aaron backed him up against the wall, tugging slightly on his hair as the movement jostled their bodies. He seemed on the edge of an apology which Spencer fended off with a deep moan, his fingers twisting in the material at Aaron’s waist, pulling his shirt from his waistband. Without thought, he worked his hand under that shirt and splayed his fingers over Aaron’s back, the skin warm and smooth beneath his palm. Aaron broke the kiss with a frantic gasp for breath and Spencer redirected his attention to Aaron’s jaw, nibbling at the smooth skin up to his hear where he panted, “You love me?”

 

“So much,” Aaron’s voice was a deep rumble back, “so much.” Aaron returned the gesture, sucking at Spencer’s neck, his hand still tugging sporadically on Spencer’s hair each time Spencer nibbled at his earlobe.

 

“We should stop,” Spencer gasped.

 

“I know,” Aaron agreed, his teeth grazing Spencer’s pulse point before he pulled back, breathing heavily. Spencer glanced down and saw that Aaron’s slacks were noticeably tented and felt a fresh rush of arousal pulse through his body. Aaron followed his gaze and flushed, dropping his hands to cover his crotch.

 

Taking pity on the other man, Spencer decided to show that he wasn’t the only one affected by their kiss and leaned back against the wall, allowing his hips to jut somewhat obscenely. His boldness was rewarded by Aaron’s eyes dropping down before flicking back up instantly, his mouth hanging open slightly and his pupils dilated. “So,” Spencer cleared his throat when his voice came out as a deep rumble, “I’ll see you tonight.”

 

“Yes, definitely. I, ah,” Aaron rubbed at the back of his neck, “I hadn’t actually meant to say that I love you right there. I mean, I meant it. I do, love you. I had just expected to say it with a little more ceremony.”

 

“It was perfect,” Spencer assures him, leaning in to brush their lips together again just because he could. “I love you too.”

 

“Alright, good. I’ll call when I’m on my way over.”

 

“Great. I’m going to leave now or else I’ll never leave.” Aaron chuckled and stepped back to let Spencer slip out the door, his messenger bag swinging around to cover his crotch as he made his way back to his car, a spring in his step. Aaron loved him. He’d guessed it but to actually hear it was amazingly wonderful. No one other than his mother had ever said those words to him and Aaron had said them. The drive home passed in a daze where all the colours seemed brighter, the smells sweeter, the sounds of the passing cars less of an irritant. It was like that moment in Mary Poppins when suddenly there’s birds flying around and everyone is singing. Why on earth was he thinking about that movie? He hadn’t seen it since he was a small child at school. God, he was being ridiculous but the man he loved had just said that he loved him too. That was something to sing and dance and celebrate. Maybe not with tweeting birds but he was definitely going to open some of that craft beer tonight and make dessert. Something really sweet and gooey like red velvet brookies with vanilla ice cream. He should definitely stop by the supermarket on his way home. With a plan in mind, he pulled into the other lane and headed towards the market. He would wine and dine Aaron and then maybe they’d spend some time snuggling on the sofa. It was going to be a good night.

 

By nine, Spencer was glancing out his window anxiously waiting for Aaron to arrive. The food was in the oven. The beer was in the fridge. The cookies were cooling on the rack. Everything was ready, except Aaron still wasn’t here. When the buzzer rang, Spencer leaped towards the intercom letting Aaron in without delay and shifting from foot to foot in his hallway until he heard Aaron’s footsteps on the landing. “Hi!” Spencer greeted Aaron at the door, pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you.”

 

Aaron grinned at him. “Love you too.”

 

Spencer shrugged, slightly embarrassed at his own enthusiasm. “I just really like saying it.”

 

“Me too,” Aaron pressed into Spencer for a harder kiss, their lips pushing and parting, breath coming heavier as Spencer gave as good as he got, pushing Aaron back into the wall, jostling the little table that he threw his keys on and hearing something crash to the floor. Aaron muttered an apology as he kicked the still open door shut and kept kissing Spencer.

 

“Can I mark you a little?” Spencer breathed across Aaron’s lips as he trailed on finger down his neck until it was resting on his exposed collar bone. The T-shirt was old and faded, once blue now more grey, the collar stretched out and worn. “I could bite down here, such a deep purple mark into your skin and tomorrow it would be hidden underneath your collar. Only you and I would know it was there.” Aaron nodded and Spencer licked at the skin before sucking deeply, pulling back and grazing his teeth over the reddened patch.

 

 

“Oh,” Aaron breathed in a gasp as Spencer’s kissed up his neck until his breath was ghosting over Aaron’s jaw, his lips just scraping over stubble.

 

 

“I’m making us dinner,” Spencer whispered, hot breath scorching over Aaron’s flushing skin. “It’ll burn.”

 

 

“Okay,” Hotch replied, “Sounds good.” Spencer chuckled but Aaron was toying with his fingers, looking at the floor. “Could we maybe continue this? On the sofa or maybe in your bedroom?”

 

 

Spencer swallowed heavily, waiting until Aaron looked up, scanning his eyes for any hesitance. There were nerves betrayed by the way Aaron’s eyes were a little too wide but his mouth was set in a determined line. “Please.” Aaron added and Spencer was done.

 

 

He grabbed Aaron’s hand, leading him down the corridor to his bedroom. “I’ll just go turn off the oven.” But Aaron had already had his hands back on him, pulling him down onto the bed with a small sound of surprise. Aaron’s fingers were bold, toying with the back of Spencer’s slacks, just dipping under the waistband, fingers grazing the rise of his ass. Spencer moaned and returned to kissing Aaron with a bruising intensity.

 

 

“I love you so much,” Aaron murmured into the kiss and rolled them so that he was stretched over Spencer’s body. “Spence,” he asked, pulling back his face flushed, eyes dark black with arousal. “Can I see you?”

 

“See me?” Spencer mumbled, fingers tracing patterns over the Aaron’s toned stomach muscles. “Oh, see me, like, you want to see my penis?”

 

“Yes, I was hoping maybe I could watch you touch yourself then I’d know what you like.” Aaron wouldn’t meet Spencer’s eyes, his gaze focused somewhere over his right shoulder.

 

“Kinky,” Spencer teased but he soothed it by tightening his grip on Aaron’s waist. “Sure. I can do that.” He rolled onto his back, tugging at his flies and wriggling out of his boxers, pushing them down around his feet exposing his aching cock to the slightly chilly air of the bedroom. His hiss of breath was lost beneath Aaron’s groan of approval. Feeling more than a little exposed, he kicked off his pants, and toed off his socks before he flicked his gaze up to Aaron whose eyes were firmly focused on Spencer’s cock, red and proud, curving up towards his stomach. Spencer knew he had a decent cock, long but maybe a bit too slim. From what he had felt, Aaron’s cock would really fill him up with his girth and length. Spreading his legs slightly, he punched the pillow beneath his head before leaning back and running just one finger up the vein underneath to the swollen head.

 

“Talk,” Aaron’s voice came out as a dark rumble and Spencer moaned. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

 

“It’s just a light touch, a tease, I sometimes imagine it’s a tongue. Usually, I just think of your hands. Your fingers are so long, thick, strong. I imagine you leaning over me, staring into my eyes and just running the tip of your finger over me, just like that.” Spencer felt his breath hitch as he did exactly what he was describing. “I’m always so on edge when I think of you. Always so desperate. When I run my thumb over the head, there’s always some precum there, dripping out because it’s you touching me. It’s you wanting me. You have no idea how awesome that it. I mean awesome like biblical. It fills me with awe the idea that one day you might want to do this to me.” Spencer ran his thumb over the slit, spreading the precum there until the head of his cock was shiny. His hand flailed out towards his bedside table, blindly searching for the lube he kept there. Once he had the bottle in hand, he squeezed some into his right palm. “And then I wrap my hands around the shaft because the teasing can’t last that long. It’s like you want me just that badly. My hand doesn’t feel right. Yours are bigger, stronger, but I imagine the way your fingers are rough from the little DIY jobs you’re always doing. I imagine that callous on your ring finger from the weird way you hold your pen. My grip is tight, almost punishing because it’s wrong and bad that I think of you like this but I do. All the time, ever since I first met you. I masturbated to the sound of your voice after that first night when I came to your confessional and you talked me back from the edge. You saved my life, Aaron, and I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how thankful I am. How desperately I love you and want you.” Spencer’s fist was tight now, pulling and working himself closer to his climax, his hips starting to jerk into the movement. His eyes were screwed tight, unwilling to look over at Aaron in case he was regretting this, in case this suddenly wasn’t something he wanted. His breath hitched and his speech was stuttered but Aaron had told him to talk so he would. “I – I like to reach down and roll my balls. I like to tug slightly. Sometimes I finger myself but, when I’m thinking it’s you, I never bother because it’s already all too much. I can imagine the smell of you, the slight scratch of stubble when we kiss. The way your lips open up to me. The way your fingers clench in my shirt.” Spencer’s eyes, shot open as he felt foreign fingers wrap around his member and he looked straight into Aaron’s dark eyes. The older man was hanging over him, panting heavily as he tightened his fist around Spencer’s cock. Spencer’s hand dropped away, his left still rolling his balls but his words had disappeared.

 

“Like this?” Aaron rumbled, the only betrayal of his nervousness was the deep red colour his ears had gone although his cheeks were also flushed with arousal. Spencer whimpered, his hips lifting off the bed again as Aaron’s wrist twisted as he rearranged his grip. “Tell me if I do something you don’t like.”

 

“Impossible. I—I like everything you do,” Spencer whispered, unable to close his eyes and feeling himself hurtling towards his orgasm. “Kiss me.” Their lips crashed together and Spencer felt his balls tighten up, his hips thrust and his cock spurt thick fluid over Aaron’s hand as he came hard enough that his vision darkened at the edges. Aaron was still holding him, still moving his hand through it all until Spencer had to break this kiss, gasping for air and the other man let go, falling to the side, breathing heavily.

 

When Spencer felt slightly more alert, he rolled to his side and trailed one hand down Aaron’s arm. “Would you like me to reciprocate?” Aaron tensed and Spencer drew back, afraid this was too far before Aaron chuckled lightly, bringing his spunk covered hand up to run through his hair before thinking better of it and wiping it off on his shirt.

 

“Sorry, I, ah, I already –“ Aaron gestured at his crotch where Spencer saw his jeans were hanging open and there was a dark stain on the front of his boxers. “You’re, um, description and actions were very arousing.”

 

Spencer stared at him for a moment before pulling him into another kiss, plunging his tongue into Aaron’s mouth as the older man clutched desperately at his T-shirt. “You are amazingly sexy,” he stated, pulling back and meeting Aaron’s wry grin.

 

“I just came in my pants. I think that’s usually the domain of teenage boys.”

 

“And you were worried you were too old for me,” Spencer smirked before realizing that he could smell something burning. “Oh, shit. Dinner.” He leapt out of bed, skidding for the door before backtracking to grab his pyjama pants and pull them over his hips. If they were finally sexually active, there was no way he was going to risk burning his dick. By the time he made it to the kitchen, the chicken parmesan was a lost cause. He picked morosely at the blackened crust and sighed when he heard Aaron follow him into the kitchen. “I think we should order in,” he muttered, tossing the pan into the sink. “I’m sorry –“ the words disappeared as he turned to look at the other man. Aaron’s hair was sticking up randomly, his cowlick falling over his forehead, his cheeks were still faintly pink and he was still buttoning up his jeans, a patch of thick pubic hair testament to the fact that he’d apparently decided that his boxers were too sticky to be comfortable. He was also wearing another one of Spencer’s T-shirts, stretching out the words DON’T BLINK.

 

“That’s okay,” Aaron shrugged, running his fingers through his hair and leaving it in further disarray. “Wow, those are massive cookies.”

 

“Brookies. Red Velvet.” Spencer corrected automatically but his eyes were still focused on the fact that, without his belt, Aaron’s jeans were hanging low on his hips. As he bent over to smell dessert, they slid a little lower with the promise that they could easily be removed again.

 

“Red Velvet Cake’s my favourite,” Aaron hummed happily, before standing and stretching his arms over his head with an audible pop. Spencer bit back a whimper and clenched his hands in the oven mitt as a reminder that Aaron still might not want to be molested in the kitchen at every possible moment. Anyway, it wasn’t like his dick was quite up to round two yet. Although, he would give it a damn good try. Aaron turned and apparently misinterpreted his staring. “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your shirt. Mine had, um, semen all over it and all I have in my bag is my clerical shirt for tomorrow.”

 

“I don’t mind at all,” Spencer assured him, trying his best not to be too creepy with the way his gaze kept dropping to the line of skin exposed by the too short shirt.

 

“Are you thinking about having sex with me?” Aaron asked, a small smile quirking his mouth.

 

“Yes,” Spencer admitted with a sigh.

 

“Ah, well, at least I know it’s normal. I was wondering why I was still wanting more after we just, you know, finished.” Spencer thought it was adorable how Aaron still stuttered over talking about sex even after he’d had his hand wrapped around Spencer’s cock but he didn’t think the other man would appreciate that observation.

 

“Well, do you want to order in?”

 

“Why don’t we just eat dessert?”

 

“Seriously? Yeah, sure. I’m just glad I made that before you came here. I might have cried if I ruined these. These are seriously the best thing you will ever taste in your life.” Spencer flailed around for two bowls, spoons, and the ice cream. “It’s a cookie and a brownie and it’s red velvet flavour. It is amazing.”

 

“I’m sold.” Aaron started filling a bowl with three cookies and a large scoop of ice cream. “Eating on the couch?”

 

“Sure,” Spencer shrugged and focused on his own bowl. “What do you want to drink? I could spike some hot chocolate.”

 

“Perfect.”

 

“It’s just the instant kind.”

 

“Still good,” Aaron smiled and wandered into the living room. Spencer watched him go for a moment, admiring the slight sway of his hips in those low slung jeans, before he started rooting in the cupboards for mugs. “Can I put music on?” Aaron shouted through.

 

“Yeah, is that Beatles one I got suitable?”

 

“Why not? Here, this is the best song.” Spencer stuck his head round the door once Aaron had finished skipping through the tracks. He stood listening to a song about a guitar gently weeping, head cocked to the side and eyes closed. When it moved to the next song, he opened them and saw Aaron standing in front of him looking expectantly. “Well?”

 

“It’s nice,” Spencer shrugged. “Haunting. Very guitar-y?”

 

“Spencer,” Aaron sighed in exasperation.

 

“What? I liked it. Play me more of your Beatles.”

 

“I’ll put the album back to the start.”

 

Spencer retreated to the kitchen to finish making their drinks, pouring a hearty amount of whiskey into each one and balancing everything back into the living room where Aaron was waiting. “You could have started without me.”

 

“My mother would turn in her grave,” Aaron admitted with a small smile. “Thanks,” he added, taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

 

“Enough whiskey?”

 

“Yup.” The trailed into silence, each man focusing on his ice cream but their thighs touching in a long line of heat. Spencer watched Aaron think, saw him frown slightly, pushing his last bite of cookie around in a puddle of ice cream and he was suddenly nervous about what had happened before. They’d been taking it so slowly and, of course, it was always going to be a jump when they finally moved to being sexually active but maybe it was too soon. Maybe Aaron had felt he had to do something because they’d said that they loved each other. Spencer bit nervously at his lip and scooted to the arm of the sofa, curling up. Aaron looked up in surprise.

 

“So, are you okay with everything that just happened?” Spencer asked still chewing on his lip, spoon swirling the last of his ice cream in the bowl.

 

“I was the one that asked for you to masturbate.” Aaron pointed out, leaning back against his side of the sofa, their feet tangled in the middle.

 

“It was in the heat of the moment. You might have got carried away.”

 

“Maybe a little,” Aaron admitted. “But I enjoyed everything. Very much. I wasn’t actually intending to touch you. Was that okay?”

 

“Yes. Definitely. Anytime you want to touch me, you can, really.” Spencer nodded his head vigorously and Aaron laughed. “But only when you want to. Still no pressure.”

 

“I’ll probably have a minor panic about this,” Aaron admitted with a sigh. “I’m still feeling a little like I’m betraying God. I’ve spent my whole life believing a certain set of rules, with my own caveats, and it’s not easy to abandon all that. But I find it hard to believe that God could be against the feeling that I have when I look at you. That sounds really cheesy but, I just mean, how can a God who loved the world so much that he sent them his only son be against love in any form at all?”

 

“I really hope that is a rhetorical question,” Spencer said. “And you don’t have to abandon it all, Aaron. I know I don’t but you can still believe in God. You can love another person and still love God.”

 

“I know. I just can’t remain a priest.”

 

“No, probably not. I’m sorry.”

 

Aaron sighed, and ran his hand through his dark hair. “I wish I’d met you decades ago. No, well perhaps not. You would still have been a child.”

 

“Yeah, let’s not go there when we’re talking about priests.”

 

“Spencer!” Aaron glared at him. “I just meant that I wish I wasn’t so old when I’m setting out on a new career path.”

 

“Bram Stoker published _Dracula_ when he was 50. Bukowski was 51 before his first book came out.”

 

“So you’re saying I should write a book.”

 

“I bet there are people out there willing to read about a priest’s gay sex adventures,” Spencer quipped and Aaron threw his head back with a laugh. “But really, you can do whatever you want.”

 

“When I was really little, I wanted to be dog,” Aaron confessed seriously. “Or a fireman.”

 

“Well,” Spencer leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. “I’ll be honest, you are probably too old to start training to be a fireman and you can’t be a dog.”

 

“You said I could be whatever I wanted,” Aaron shot back, a smile tugging at his frown.

 

“Except a dog. Dogs don’t like me. You do like me. Therefore, you cannot be a dog.”

 

“Your point is well argued,” Aaron leaned forward and kissed Spencer. “I think I’ll finish out the year and then tender my resignation. Hopefully, I’ll be able to do so quietly. I’d rather not be hounded out of the city.”

 

“That won’t happen. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

 

“We are in the eyes of the Catholic Church. I just hope that it won’t come to anything. I’ll just retire without giving a clear reason. David can take over until they find someone to help him. It’ll be fine.” Aaron finished in the tone of someone desperately trying to convince themselves of a fact.

 

“What can I do to help? I feel terrible. I’m not sacrificing anything for this relationship and you’re having to give up everything. I don’t want you to resent me for it.”

 

“I don’t.” Aaron pulled Spencer against his chest, wrapping his arms around his thin shoulders.

 

“One day you might,” Spencer mumbled into his T-shirt.

 

“Just promise me that if everything goes really badly that you’ll stand by me.”

 

Spencer pulled back to see the fraught expression on Aaron’s face. “Of course. Always.”

 

“See, that’s all I need,” Aaron assured him with a tremulous smile. “Let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” Spencer stared at Aaron for a moment, looking for a chink in his armour but the small, genial smile was back in place, his face placid and untroubled. Gently, Aaron leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Spencer’s lips. “Take me to bed.”

 

Still unsure, but willing to drop it for the moment, Spencer stood and offered Aaron his hand, leading him back to the bedroom because that’s what Aaron had asked for and Spencer would do his best to always give his partner what he wanted.


	12. Gestures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry that this is a day late. I hope you all enjoy it anyway.

It was fast becoming his favourite thing in the world to wake up with Spencer in his arms. He always felt more rested after spending a night at Spencer’s and he realized that, despite how terrifying it was, he was prepared to leave the church in order to get this for the rest of his life. Leaving the church was the only real choice he had now. The relationship had become sexual. He had truly violated his vows. His gut twisted with the thought of how he had betrayed God even as he clutched tighter at the man in bed with him. Wondering what had woken him when it was, he looked at his watch, almost four in the morning he heard the muffled tones of Spencer’s phone.

 

“Spence,” he muttered, shaking the other man, “your phone is ringing.”

 

“Fuck it,” Spencer grumbled and turned, snuggling his nose into the front of Aaron’s shirt before he sighed heavily. “I have to answer it, don’t I?”

 

“Probably,” Aaron sat up and reached for Spencer’s pants that were still in a tangle at the end of the bed. “Here. It says it’s JJ.”

 

“Yeah,” Spencer yawned so widely his jaw cracked, “I have to answer that.” He took the phone with a weary smile at Aaron. “Hi Jaje.” Aaron lay back down, one hand resting on Spencer’s thigh as the other man talked on the phone. He could hear him waking up more and more as he spoke, which meant it was probably a case. Aaron was drifting on the edge of consciousness when he felt Spencer’s lips ghost across his own. He smiled and tangled his hand in Spencer’s hair, pulling the other man closer into him.

 

“Do you need to go now?” Aaron asked, between pressing kisses to Spencer’s already swollen lips.

 

“I need to be at the airstrip for six. I’ll drop you off first but we still have some time.” Spencer pulled back with a sleepy smile on his face. “Enough time for me to suck you off.”

 

Aaron froze, slightly shocked and horribly turned on by the suggestion. His brain seemed to stutter to a stop at the thought of Spencer sliding under the covers and wrapping his lips around him. He couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like other than good. It would probably feel very good. He’d probably still be thinking about it a couple of hours later when he was standing in front of his congregation and he couldn’t do that. Not that he wouldn’t be thinking of last night and what they were doing now because what they were doing now was also sexual, which was wrong. Well, not wrong because he wasn’t going to regret any of it but still wrong for a priest to do before giving mass. He was going to hell, possibly. God wouldn’t really send him to hell for love, would he? Shifting, he could feel the hot pressure of Spencer’s erection against the groove of his hip, his own cock was hard and aching, leaking slightly in his pyjama pants and how could be possibly stand up in front of a room of people and talk about God after this.

 

A gentle palm landed on his face and he looked into Spencer’s eyes, which were wary, “I’m sorry, Aaron, I’m still half-asleep and I spoke without thinking. We don’t have to do anything.”

 

Spencer started to move away but instinctually Aaron clutched at him, his fingers gripping Spencer’s slim hips. “I want to do something,” he blurted out and it was true. Certainly, the thought of standing behind the pulpit after this was mortifying but, right now, the thought of not getting some kind of release was utterly unbearable.

 

“Can I touch you?” Spencer asked, still hesitant.

 

Aaron wanted nothing more than to rid Spencer of those nerves. He loved Spencer when he was controlling, when he pushed his boundaries and forced Aaron to admit what he desired. Hearing him talk last night, with his hand working over his own flesh, about how he imagined Aaron touching him was so empowering. If he could perform that miracle in Spencer’s imagination, then he had been emboldened to believe that he could do it in real life and he had. Feeling Spencer’s cock pulsing in his fist had sent him over the edge, their kiss swallowing up the desperate noise of surprise. He couldn’t deny Spencer the same privilege, not when it was something he wanted equally as badly. “Please,” was all he said, releasing the other man enough that together they could work off his pyjama pants. It was the first time he’d been naked in front of Spencer and he fidgeted under the scrutiny. “Do you want me to take my shirt off?”

 

“Do you want to?” Spencer asked, but the hungry look in his eyes as he sat back on his heels answered Aaron’s question. Sitting up, he stripped off, wringing the T-shirt between his palms before taking a deep breath and throwing it onto the floor. He slid back down and spread his legs slightly, feigning the confidence he was lacking. It reminded him of the first time he stood up in church to preach a sermon and his hands had been shaking so badly that he’d been worried to whole lectern was quaking. Still, he’d made sure his voice was even and confident and soon his hands had been brought into line too. He’d developed a reputation as a powerful and skilled preacher. This was just another moment of mind over matter. Fake it until you make it.

 

“Would you maybe undress too?” Aaron asked, forcing an attempt at a cocky smile.

 

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Spencer pulled his own shirt off before awkwardly shimmying out of his pants and sliding back onto the bed. Aaron took a long look of his own. Spencer was slim lines of defined muscle, jutting hipbones and a flat stomach. His thighs were long and strong looking, his arms wiry and corded with muscle, just slight bulges hinting at bicep strength. His collarbones were defined, his nipples dusky and a light dusting of hair led to his cock, long, slim, and as beautiful as the rest of him. “You are very sexy,” Spencer’s husky voice pulled him out of his reverie. “We probably should have done this when we had more time. I want to spend hours just looking at you.”

 

Aaron swallowed at the thought of Spencer’s sharp gaze, drinking him in, memorising every aspect of his being, everything that he was. The thought made his dick noticeably twitch and his hand jerk towards it but Spencer was right there, his fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin of Aaron’s inner thighs, his palm a gentle pressure on the skin of his cock as Spencer looked up at him, waiting for the nod of approval which Aaron eagerly gave. A desperate whine was ripped from his throat as Spencer wrapped his fingers around his flesh and gave an experimental tug, his eyes focused on Aaron’s face, seemingly cataloguing his every reaction. It was nothing like his own hand. Spencer’s fingers were thinner, bonier, the pressure different and new and just the thought that this was Spencer’s hand pushed his arousal to dizzying new heights. There was only one thing that would make this better. Aaron reached for Spencer’s hip, pulling him in closer and trying to shift them into a position where he could wrap his own hand around Spencer’s cock again. He’d felt so powerful last night bringing Spencer to orgasm and he was as desperate to feel that again as he was to cum himself.

 

“Wait,” Spencer panted, pulling back. Aaron froze, maybe they were meant to take turns. But Spencer just reached for the bottle of lubricant that was still balanced on the edge of the bedside table and squirted a generous amount into his hand. He reached down slathering to cool liquid over Aaron’s cock and drawing a sharp hiss from him that quickly morphed into a whine of pleasure as Spencer’s slick hand slid up his flesh. “Feels good, right?” Spencer grinned at him. “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it just tell me and we’ll stop.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron nodded, anything to keep Spencer’s hand moving. The younger man leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his lips before laying down, settling his thighs between Aaron’s spread legs and shifting until Aaron could feel the long line of Spencer’s cock next to his.

 

“This okay?” Spencer murmured, still ghosting his lips over Aaron’s and working his hand over Aaron’s flesh.

 

“Yes,” Aaron groaned, hands reaching to clutch at Spencer’s hips as the other man moved his hand until it was wrapped around both their cocks, his hips starting to thrust into his tight fist. It was warm and slick, and their bodies started undulating as Aaron found that he’d tapped into a rhythm that his body innately recognised even if it was all new to him. The pleasure was more than he had ever known. He was able to tangle his tongue with Spencer’s, knead at Spencer’s ass with one hand as the other kept their bodies rocking together. “Spencer,” he gasped as the other man tightened his grip.

 

“Too much?”

 

“So good.”

 

“Good. I’m getting close, Aaron. Are you close?”

 

“Yes, Spence. Yes.”

 

“Cum for me, Aaron. I want to see you.” Spencer pulled back, his eyes sharply focused on Aaron, all traces of sleep erased as he continued to work their flesh. Aaron tossed his head from side to side, pushed his hips and fought to crest that wave. “You’re so beautiful,” Spencer groaned and he was there, a strangled little noise caught in his throat as he cock pulsed and he felt the warmth of ejaculation spread over Spencer’s hand and their cocks. When he opened his eyes, Spencer was looking at him in seeming wonder, his hand still but his cock a hard line next to Aaron’s softening member. Aaron pushed between them, slicking his hand with the mixture of fluids and finally wrapping his fingers back around Spencer. Already he felt more confident. He’d done this before, he could do it again, and hopefully again and again for the rest of his life. Spencer moaned, biting deeply into his bottom lip.

 

“I want to see you too,” Aaron murmured, his voice loose and deep.

 

Spencer whimpered, his hips catching and jerking and Aaron felt his cock swell and pulse, semen spraying over his stomach, coating him as Spencer shook above him. The younger man collapsed onto him, trapping his hand, but Aaron didn’t care as Spencer mouthed little kisses to his jawline before shifting off him to lie next to him on the pillow.

 

“You really like my voice,” Spencer murmured and Aaron could hear his smile in his voice.

 

“Well, it’s how I first got to know you.”

 

“No, you _really_ like my voice,” Spencer rolled onto his side to smirk at Aaron. “That little noise you made as you came. I’ve heard that before.”

 

“Last night?”

 

“No, you were kissing me last night. It was when we were on the phone. I was falling asleep, talking about one of my fantasies with you. Were you masturbating on the phone with me?”

 

Aaron knew he was bright red. Of course, he remembered that night. Spencer had been talking about marking him and Aaron had slipped his hand into his shorts, just to take off the pressure a little but he’d ended up sliding his fist up and down the shaft before he even realized what he was doing, he was cuming in his pants, apparently a theme for him. He trailed a finger up to his collarbone, pressing on the mark that Spencer had left there last night and from the sharp intake of breath he knew that Spencer was imagining him doing just that at mass in a couple of hours. He didn’t need to answer, and he couldn’t have anyway as Spencer threw himself at him again, lips almost bruising in their pressure, the possessiveness clear. Aaron thought that perhaps it should bother him but suddenly the idea of belonging to another person and not just to a higher power seemed desperately appealing.

 

Spencer’s phone chirped again and he pulled back with a groan. “That’ll be JJ sending me a text to make sure I didn’t fall back to sleep.”

 

Aaron smiled, nuzzling at Spencer’s nose. “I take it she’s the mom of your group.”

 

“No, JJ doesn’t have any kids. She’s seeing a detective from New Orleans though we’re all pretending that we don’t know because she’s keeping it a secret.” Spencer sat back and grimaced at the mess on their stomachs. “We need to shower and get going. I’m sorry. It’s so early.”

 

“It’s not that much earlier than I usually get up. Do you want first shower?”

 

“No, you go. I’ll start the coffee. I’ve got a spare travel mug you can use.”

 

“Sounds good.”

 

The domesticity of the morning kept Aaron smiling as he passed Spencer brushing his teeth when he stepped out the shower, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s bare shoulder before they both shrugged their shirts on, fingers quickly closing buttons, a tie being tied, a collar being slipped into place. Spencer handed him a Stanley cup of warm coffee as they stepped out the door, Spencer locking it behind them. It was an utterly uneventful half hour but Aaron thought it was wonderful. Yes, he was ready to start this new life, he nodded to himself as he clipped his seatbelt in place.

 

“So where are you going today?” Aaron asked as Spencer backed the car out of his parking spot.

 

Spencer noticeably tensed before answering. “Roanoke, Virginia. So, not far.”

 

“What’s special about this case?” Spencer looked over at him with a frown. “I’m not a profiler, Spencer, but I can see that something’s got you on edge.”

 

“Do you remember in the papers four years ago there was a killer dubbed the Blue Ridge Strangler?”

 

“Yes. Girls were being strangled in Blue Ridge Parkway. They got the guy, right?”

 

“We did, sort of. It was my first case with the team. We tracked down the killer but he ran, jumped off a roof and ended up in a coma. He’s just woken up.”

 

“So why do you need to go there? Won’t he just be transferred to prison now?”

 

“He was never convicted at trial. Morgan, JJ and I are flying down. We need to build the case again and there’s the added complication that he apparently has no memory of the crimes he committed.”

 

“If he has no memory of the killings is he still guilty?” Aaron mused, looking at Spencer as he drove while chewing his lip nervously.

 

“Well, that’s a big if. He’ll have to be tested to make sure he’s not faking it. If he really does have amnesia, then there’s a chance his lawyer will go for that defence. One of us will probably have to take the stand and defend our profile as well as argue that he should still be held accountable. I guess, someone needs to be punished for the murders. Anyway, this is probably moot. Amnesia is usually temporary. His memories may come back to him.”

 

“How long will you be gone?”

 

“Depends on how long the trial lasts. It’ll be a strange case. Morgan was the one chasing him when he fell from the rooftop.”

 

“He’ll need support.”

 

“I imagine so. A few weeks ago, I never would have imagined offering to talk to him but I guess we’re friends now.”

 

“I don’t know, Spence. It sounds like you have a lot of friends on your team.”

 

“I does seem that way,” Spencer smiled. “It’s a shame Gideon isn’t around. Not closing up this case always bothered him. Maybe if he sees it in the newspapers, it will bring him out of the woodwork. I won’t hold my breath.”

 

“I’m sure your team is just as strong with or without him.” Spencer pulled his car to a stop outside the church. Turning in his seat, looking at Aaron somewhat sadly. Aaron reached for his hand, gripping it tightly.

 

“I’ll miss you,” Spencer murmured, running his thumb over Aaron’s knuckles. It mirrored the way he’d smeared the precum around the head of his cock last night and made Aaron’s breath speed up with arousal totally disproportionate to the innocent nature of the touch.

 

“I’ll miss you too.” Aaron murmured, speaking low to hide how Spencer’s touch was affecting him. It was ridiculous to feel like he needed this man so much and his desire slightly scared him. “Call me tonight, if you have a chance.”

 

“I will. I, um, I hope you’ll be okay. I hate running out like this after we’ve slept together for the first time.”

 

“Spencer, I’m forty two years old. I’ll be fine.”

 

“I know. I just – I’ll call you.”

 

“Good. Stay safe.” Aaron watched Spencer drive away before turning to look up at the church. It was still dark out and the neon cross was flashing red into the night, its glow reflected in the puddles on the ground from where it had rained last night. David had always wanted to tear down the cross. He maintained that it was tacky but Aaron had argued against it. He had a fondness for the remnant of the past. It had been erected by the predecessor of his predecessor when neon had been all the rage and not just the staple of dive bars and the Las Vegas strip. He wondered if it was this reminder of home that had attracted Spencer to the church that first night when he had come stumbling in out of the rain. As tasteless a beacon as it may be, Aaron hoped that this light in even the darkest night attracted people to the church. Its slightly dilapidated state might make it seem more accessible as if the church needed its people as much as they needed the church, which was patently true. Aaron wondered what he would do without the anchor of the church; he wondered who he would be. He hoped that Spencer wouldn’t grow tired of Aaron clinging to him as his port in a storm.

 

Mass seemed to pass in a bit of a daze as he fought the temptation to reach up and press against the red bruise on his collarbone. Of course, he could say mass in his sleep having done it for twenty years but this was the first time that he really felt that he wasn’t present. It was the first time that he didn’t stand with bated breath listening for the Holy Spirit moving in the room. It was the first time that his mind wasn’t focused on God as he prayed and the guilt of that fact weighed heavily on his shoulders even after he had discarded the thick robes that swathed him. Even in just his shirt sleeves, he felt the burden of the knowledge that he had just gone through the motions of service for the first time in his career. He felt like a fraud. Spencer had said that he could love God and love him. He was right. That was undoubtedly true but Aaron didn’t understand how a minister, a rabbi, an imam could marry and still feel enough dedication to his faith. He felt like he was being torn in two and he wondered how much was because of the inculcation of Catholicism. He twisted his hands but then was hit with a wave of memory of how those same hands had caressed Spencer’s naked flesh and had brought so much pleasure to both of them. That level of ecstasy couldn’t be wrong.

 

Mind still replaying the way that their bodies had rolled together, Aaron wandered back into his apartments. “You look different today,” David commented, inviting himself into Aaron’s home once again and flopping down onto the couch. “Is this your afterglow?”

 

Aaron could feel it. He knew it. His ears were burning and the bright burst of laughter from his friend confirmed it. He busied himself with making their usual morning coffee and avoiding the issue. “So have we finalized the programme for Christmas?”

 

“I think so. You were conservative this year.”

 

“I realized it was probably my last one,” Aaron admitted with a heavy sigh. “I wanted to run through my best memories from previous years.”

 

“Ah,” David went silent, only giving a small nod of thanks when Aaron passed him his coffee.

 

“Was mass okay today? I mean, was I okay?”

 

“Of course. It was just like usual Why – ah you’re have a crisis of conscience because you got your cherry popped last night. Don’t worry, no one could tell that you were a very bad boy.” David’s voice was clearly teasing but Aaron still winced. “Are you really bothered by this?”

 

“I’ve sinned, David. I’ve broken my vows. What I did was wrong.”

 

“Aaron,” David waited until Aaron looked up and met his eyes. “Did Spencer coerce you?”

 

“No, of course not. I initiated it.”

 

“And you enjoyed it?”

 

“Very much,” Aaron whispered, looking away at the wall.

 

“So, what is the problem exactly?”

 

“I was thinking about Spencer this morning. I wasn’t focused.”

 

“So what? We’ve all had days that we phoned it in. No big deal.”

 

Aaron shook his head. “No, David, I haven’t. Not once.”

 

To his surprise, David smiled fondly at him. “Underneath all this guilt, are you happy?”

 

Aaron didn’t even need to think, “Happier than I have ever been.”

 

“You always were too serious. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a wonderful priest and one of the best men I have ever had the privilege to know but you give so much of yourself to your job, to everyone in the congregation. You have never had anything for yourself, anything that you wanted just for you, until now. I know you were fine as you were and you would have died a contented man but now you seem to have been given the chance to die a happy man, hopefully after many long years doing the horizontal tango with your boyfriend.”

 

“That was a beautiful speech, David, you need to work on your ending.”

 

“That ending was gold. Look, drop the guilt. It’s not worth it. So, you’re going to be leaving?”

 

“Well, I think it’s the right thing to do.”

 

“After the holidays, I guess.”

 

“One last Christmas and then I’ll quietly tender my resignation. What will you do until they find my successor?”

 

“I’ll manage. Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I know. I just – I wish I could have both worlds.”

 

“Should have been a Protestant,” David smiled at him. “I hope I’ll still see you in mass.”

 

“I hope so too.”

 

“So where’s your young man off to now?”

 

“Roanoke. I think it’s going to be a difficult case for him.”

 

“Well, you know, that’s not far and you haven’t taken a morning off as long as I’ve known you. Not even that time you had the flu and stood there clinging to the pulpit as you sweated and swayed.”

 

“That was a terrible morning. The whole room was spinning.”

 

“What I’m saying is that you are entitled to some time off. If Spencer needs you, you could hire a car and drive down there.”

 

“We’ll see,” Aaron murmured but the thought had him feeling a little giddy. He really hadn’t ever missed a morning mass for as long as he had been at this parish. It might be good to start slowly, dip his toe into the water of laity by going to see Spencer at the end of his case. Especially if it turned out to be as complex and upsetting as Spencer’s demeanour this morning had suggested it was going to be. He’d wait until Spencer called and then decide.

 

“Hi, did I wake you?”

 

“No, I was hoping you were going to call.” Aaron placed his whiskey down on the bedside table and crossed his legs, placing his first draft of his resignation letter to one side. He’d only written two lines anyway. A glance at his watch told him it was a little past midnight. “How is it going?”

 

“Well, he’s been tested. It’s definitely amnesia and we’ve been over the files again, he’s definitely guilty or at least he was. Do you think people are genetically predetermined to be killers?”

 

“No, I think environmental factors are primarily responsible although some mental health issues can make someone more susceptible to homicidal urges.” Aaron had spent a lot of time thinking about this exact issue recently although he had no desire to share with Spencer the reasons why.

 

“That was a remarkably thought out answer,” Spencer mumbled. “I agree. So, can he still be considered guilty?”

 

“Will his memory return?”

 

“Impossible to say. He suffered a major trauma when he fell. It’s a miracle he’s alive. Although, if that’s the kind of miracles God is performing at the moment then he really needs to up his game.”

 

“I’ll get on the phone to him about that,” Aaron muttered wryly, taking another sip of whiskey.

 

“The trial starts tomorrow. There’s some big shot lawyer who’s taken the case pro bono probably because he gets his rocks off by taking risks. Both Morgan and I will be taking the stand. JJ’s running point between us and the prosecutor. I hate testifying in court. I talk too much and confuse people.”

 

“So keep it simple. It’s just like when I get up in front of my congregation. There are these big ideas, complicated ideas, but people want you to keep it simple and understandable for them. Don’t dumb it down but keep your sentences short and snappy.”

 

“You are a great public speaker. Have I ever mentioned that I love your dry sense of humour? Not everyone gets it but you slip it in there and it makes me smile.”

 

Aaron smiled into his drink. “Thank you. I don’t suppose that you should try to be funny on the witness stand.”

 

“No, I doubt that would go over well with the judge. Plus, people really don’t get my jokes.”

 

“Tell me one.”

 

“Okay, um, how many existentialists does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Two. One to change the lightbulb, and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in a netherworld of cosmic nothingness.”

 

Aaron snorted, “That’s a bit of a niche joke.”

 

“One of my professors told it in class when I was getting my philosophy degree. It had me in stitches.”

 

“I would love to see David react to that joke. Although, I’ve heard him tell this one: How many Roman Catholics does it take to screw in a light bulb? Two, one to do it and a priest to hear him confess and give the old bulb last rites.”

 

“I think mine is funnier.”

 

“Probably. So, do you think it’ll be a long trial?”

 

“It depends on how tomorrow goes. Pretty much everything is hinging on our profile. We never did recover the last body.”

 

“Well, I’ll wish you luck. Let me know how it goes. Also, if you don’t think he’d mind, could you text me Morgan’s number? I just want to send him a message that he can talk to either David or me if he feels the need.”

 

“I’ll check with him first. I think he might appreciate that. We talked today and it’s still bothering him that he didn’t stop Matloff’s fall.”

 

“Well, let him know. I love you, Spence.”

 

“Love you too. Good night.”

 

Throughout the next day, Spencer sent him sporadic texts. One with Morgan’s number. The other with updates on how the trial was going, as much as he could say. Apparently, he did very well on the stand and even managed to slip in a joke about the lawyer’s socks. He promised Aaron he would elaborate later. It was the text he received in the afternoon that worried him the most. All it said was: Sometimes I think we err when we stop the vigilantes. Aaron knew that Spencer believed in the law wholeheartedly. He tried to call after that but Spencer’s phone was off, which meant he must be in court. When Aaron saw on the news a couple of hours later that Matloff had escaped briefly but had been apprehended in the national park, Aaron knew that he should probably go down there. Spencer’s next text just said: Guilty. Aaron hired a car and set out on the road with a firm shoulder clap from David. He didn’t know the whole story but he figured that Spencer might need some support.

 

“Hi,” Aaron murmured as Spencer opened his hotel room door. He hid his nervousness with a firm grip on the bag thrown over his shoulder. There was no precedent for this. With every mile that had passed, he’d felt that perhaps the gesture was too grand, perhaps even ridiculous but he’d stayed the course. He now just had to hope that Spencer wouldn’t resent him for it.

 

“Are you – you’re here,” Spencer’s stuttered in surprise. “How did you know which room I was in?”

 

“I asked Morgan. He told me that if I can’t be smart, I should be safe. I think he meant I should drive carefully.”

 

“That’s not what he meant,” Spencer grumbled but he stepped back to let Aaron into his hotel room. “It’s good to see you. How did you get off work?”

 

“David is covering. I was worried about you. You’re texts sounded so despondent.”

 

“And you drove almost four hours because I sounded sad?” Aaron shrugged and Spencer attempted a warm smile that fell quickly. “He remembered. Led us straight to the body of the missing girl but, God Aaron, the guilt in his eyes. He truly regretted what he had done and it feels like we were punishing him for a past life. He changed his plea to guilty, agreed to a life sentence without parole.”

 

“He was guilty, Spencer. He decided that in the end.”

 

“No, I know. He deserves to go to jail but he also deserves a second chance.”

 

“We all do. I got mine,” Aaron stepped forward, holding his arms open slightly as was rewarded by Spencer falling into him, clutching to his shirt. “Are you staying another night?”

 

“Yes,” Spencer mumbled into Aaron’s shoulder. “I – um—I’m driving back rather than flying with the others. I have something to do.”

 

“What?” Aaron’s eyes narrowed suspiciously with the fear that it was something drug related.

 

Spencer looked down at his shoes, scuffing them a little on the stiff carpet. “I want to return something. One of the victim’s had a watch and I think it might help her father. I don’t expect it to give him closure but it might help.”

 

“Oh, that’s good.” Aaron gave himself a metaphorical kick for not trusting his partner. “Can I come with you?”

 

“Yeah, I –uh—it’s too late now but I was going to go first thing in the morning. Is that okay?”

 

“I was hoping to stay anyway.” Aaron gestured with the duffel bag that was still slung over his shoulder. “If that’s okay.”

 

“I’d like that. A lot. You didn’t have to do this you know,” Spencer murmured, sitting down on the bed. The television was playing an old movie in the background. Aaron glanced at the profile of Greta Garbo, her face turned up to the light.

 

“I wanted to. I mean, the whole way here I thought about turning back. I didn’t want you to feel that I was being too, I don’t know, clingy.”

 

“Not at all,” Spencer assured him, pulling Aaron down to sit next to him on the bed. “I guess it’s romantic. Driving out in the middle of the night just to be with me. I never would have taken you for a romantic, Aaron Hotchner.”

 

“Me neither,” Aaron smiled self-deprecatingly, twining their fingers together. “I’m learning new things about myself every day.”

 

“He came to court with a gun this afternoon,” Spencer sighed, his head dropping forward.

 

“Who?”

 

“Mr. Corbett. His daughter Darci was killed by Matloff. He, um, he just wanted it to be over.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“I stopped him.”

 

“You got in front of his gun, didn’t you?”

 

“Not exactly, I sort of grabbed it with my hand.”

 

“Jesus, Spencer.”

 

“Are you going to have to say ten Hail Marys for taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

 

“When my partner tells me that he threw himself in front of a gun, I am genuinely praying to Jesus. You could have been killed.”

 

“I wasn’t about to let a grieving man throw his life away in vain. I just reminded him to think of his daughter. I tried to think about what you would say about loved ones who have passed watching over us.”

 

“I wouldn’t have stepped in front of a gun.” Spencer just raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, I haven’t done it yet and I’m a lot older than you.”

 

“It was the right thing to do.”

 

“It was reckless.” Aaron sucked in a deep breath as he registered his rising volume. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Is my job going to be a problem? It’s dangerous. Today wasn’t the first day I’ve had a gun trained on me and I doubt it’ll be the last.”

 

“No. I admire what you do. I just hope I’ll find something I’m as passionate about. As passionate as I was about being a priest.”

 

“Would you rather stay a priest? I mean we could just be friends.” Aaron felt Spencer’s words like a kick to the solar plexus.

 

“Could you do that?” he asked quietly, folding his hands in his lap. “After everything we – I thought that it meant some–“ Aaron cut himself off as he realized that he sounded like a teenage girl in one of those coming of age movies.

 

“Of course it did. I love you. I’ve never said that to anyone before. No one has ever said that to me. I’ve just been thinking a lot about this these past couple of days and I don’t want to ruin your life. I just want you to be happy and your job makes you happy.”

 

“Not as much as you do.” Aaron murmured. “I started drafting my resignation letter today. I guess I need to start looking for an apartment. I need clothes. I’m not allowed to wear my collar after laicization. Not that I’d want to it’s just – I’m not really going to have anything at all except for my records. Everything else belongs to the church.”

 

“What about the blanket, the blue one?”

 

“The blanket?” Aaron looked up at Spencer in confusion. “No. I get to keep my blanket.”

 

“Good. It’ll be comfy for watching movies on my couch.”

 

“You’re taking my blanket?”

 

“I’m taking you with it. I thought it was a given that you’d move in with me.”

 

“Oh, well. Yes. I didn’t want to presume.”

 

“I’ll get you a key made when we get back to DC.”

 

“I won’t be leaving until after Christmas.”

 

“You should have a key to my – our place anyway.” Spencer smiled at him and Aaron couldn’t stop himself from tackling him to the bed, kissing him frantically until Spencer soothed him with gentle hands on his back, sliding under his jacket and sweater, slipping under his T-shirt until Spencer’s fingers were drawing circles on the bare skin of his back.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Can we do something now?” Aaron asked trailing his lips up Spencer’s jawline, relishing the drag of the other man’s stubble. “I’ve been thinking about you constantly. I want – I want to see you naked again, please.”

 

“That was very polite,” Spencer smiled at him. “And in the interest of being polite, I should warn you that I really need a shower.”

 

“Me too.” It had been a long drive and Aaron was feeling gritty.

 

“Join me?”

 

“In the shower?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Will we both fit?”

 

“Of course. We don’t need much room.” Spencer was positively grinning now as he got to his feet and started to undress. By the time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, Aaron had got with the programme and shucked his jacket and sweater. In no time, they were both naked and Spencer took him by the hand to lead him into the bathroom. Aaron was thankful that the shower was more like a wet area that was curtained off from the rest of the bathroom. As Spencer adjusted the temperature of the water, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked lighter than he had in years. His hair was loose from its usual style, his cowlick falling over his forehead and he found that he didn’t mind. He thought it might actually suit him. “Coming?” Spencer asked, peeking out from the curtain.

 

“Yeah,” Aaron smiled at him and stepped under the water, soaping himself up with the soap Spencer passed him, and quickly shampooing his hair. Spencer seemed to take more time, detangling his hair and conditioning it. The shower smelled wonderfully of Spencer as the younger man rinsed his hair again.

 

“Have you ever masturbated in the shower?” Spencer asked, looking over his shoulder at Aaron who was leaning against the cool tiles, watching the way the water cascaded over Spencer’s back, down his firm thighs. His gaze trailed up to Spencer’s eyes, lashes spiky from the water that had done nothing too cool the heat in them.

 

Feeling emboldened by Spencer’s naked desire, he trailed a hand down his stomach, feeling the muscles ripple under his own touch and wrapped a loose hand around his straining cock. “I’ve masturbated in your shower before.”

 

“Oh God,” Spencer gasped, taking a step towards Aaron that brought their bodies into contact, miles of slick skin sliding sinuously.

 

Aaron raised a finger and pressed it to Spencer’s lips. “Now that, is taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

 

“Perfectly understandable,” Spencer muttered from behind Aaron’s finger. Aaron barely had a chance to register the glint in Spencer’s eye before the other man licked up to the tip of his finger before sucking it into his mouth. The pressure felt strangely wonderful and bizarrely his cock twitched in jealously as Spencer continued to lick and suck until Aaron was panting heavily. Spencer pulled off with a pop. “You like that.”

 

“Yes. I don’t know why but yes.” Aaron pulled their bodies together, the water making everything slick as he rubbed against the line of Spencer’s hip.

 

“It simulates a blow job,” Spencer smirked at him.

 

“Oh,” Aaron stared at him wide eyed as he continued to shift his hips, Spencer clutching at him and helping them find a rhythm. “You must think I’m so naïve.”

 

“Not naïve. Just inexperienced. And I like it. No one else have ever seen you like this. Your pupils are so dilated right now. The brown is just a thin line of colour. You’re panting. Your cheeks are flushed and I know when you come that colour his going to spread down your chest. I know these things because you let me, because you chose me. You chose me and no one else. You can’t imagine how that makes me feel.”

 

“Keep talking,” Aaron growled as he poured a little more soap into his palm and then wrapped his hand around both their cocks just like Spencer had done the other morning. Spencer made a small moan of approval before gathering his thoughts, his breath coming faster, his hands clutching at Aaron’s shoulders.

 

“It makes me feel worthwhile like I was worth saving all those times when I’ve been close to death. It makes me feel like there’s something to live for. I – I feel less broken. If someone as perfect as you can love me then there must be something good in me. It makes me want to try to be better, to never fall again. I – I love you Aaron and you love me and I’m going to spend the – the rest –“ Spencer stuttered and groaned, his head falling forward until their foreheads were resting together, their eyes locked. Aaron relished the hot feeling on Spencer’s release on his palm before releasing Spencer’s cock and concentrating on reaching his own climax. “the rest of my life making sure that you never regret choosing me.” Spencer panted and pressed their lips together swallowing the little noises that Aaron made as he came over his own fist.

 

They washed off with little touches and crawled under the sheets, Aaron wrapping his body around Spencer’s as they surrendered to sleep for a few short hours they had before they’d need to get back on the road and head back to D.C.

 

Spencer was quiet in the morning as he slipped into the passenger side of Aaron’s rental. He played with the watch that he had wrapped in a white handkerchief this morning, sliding it out of the cold nylon of the evidence bag.

 

Aaron watched Spencer walk up the driveway to the little wooden house, its paint peeling, the garden overgrown, the whole place reeking of despair and neglect. An old man answered the door, older than he should have been, his shoulders stooped as he looked at Spencer in confusion. Their lips moved though Aaron couldn’t hear the words from where he sat in the car. He’d had to give his condolences to grieving families many times over the course of his career but it never got easy to see the pain that death wrought on the living. Spencer handed over the watch and Aaron watched Mr. Corbett pause before taking it, his hand reaching up to wipe at his cheek. He nodded once, spoke a few more words and then retreated into the house, the watch clutched to his chest as if in fear that it too would be taken from him. Spencer paused to look up at the house before turning and walking back to the car, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets. He slid into the passenger seat with a sigh, huddling up close to the air vents that were pumping hot air. Aaron opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. Instead, he shifted the car into drive and pulled out before resting his hand on Spencer’s thigh. The other man’s chill fingers curled around his and Spencer murmured his thanks as they headed back to the highway, as they headed back to their home.


	13. Words

“What’s got you so jittery, kid?” Morgan kicked at Spencer’s leg that was bouncing frantically. “Someone spike your sugar with some coffee?”

 

“What? No. I don’t have that much sugar in my coffee. The proportions are perfectly rational. Your perceptions are just skewed by the fact that you all take yours black.”

 

“Sure thing. Still, what’s with the shakes?”

 

“I, ah, I got a key cut for Aaron on my lunchbreak. I’m going to give it to him after work.”

 

“Wow. Look at you all grown up.”

 

“I do hate you so much,” Spencer muttered and ducked as Morgan tried to ruffle his hair.

 

“Why do you hate him?” Emily asked as she walked back in from lunch with JJ. “I mean, other than the obvious.”

 

“What’s the obvious?” Morgan asked affronted.

 

“Your face.” Emily teased with a smile.

 

“You’re hilarious, princess. Our boy here is all grown up. He got a key cut for Aaron.”

 

“Aw, that is adorable. Darn, I need to get him a Christmas present. I totally forgot.”

 

“A Christmas present?” Spencer’s eyes were very wide and his body suddenly very still.

 

“Yes, Reid, it’s a relatively well known tradition. The exchanging of gifts during the holidays. You have partaken in it before.”

 

“I know. Of course I know. It’s just, I hadn’t thought about what to get for Aaron and Christmas is only two weeks away and I need to go shopping. Oh God, what am I going to get him?”

 

“You could just put a little ribbon on that key,” Morgan suggested, “I think that’s a pretty good gift.”

 

“No, he knows I’m giving him the key. We’ve already discussed it. I need to actually get him something. I mean, well, he’s going to need everything soon but I don’t want to buy him pants and sweaters.”

 

“No, that’s a mom gift,” Emily pointed out. “Wait, why’s he going to need clothes so soon?”

 

“He’s, um, he’s leaving the church after Christmas.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“Yeah, I, ah, I’m excited but nervous for him. I’m sure he’ll be wonderful at whatever he does. I just hope he doesn’t regret his decision.”

 

“Don’t worry about that,” Morgan shook his head. “It’ll be fine. Alright, back to gifts. Lingerie?”

 

Spencer felt his face burning red as he choked on nothing. “Aaron is definitely a guy.”

 

“There’s male lingerie,” Emily pointed out with a devious smile.

 

“I, ah, oh?” Spencer muttered nonchalantly as he committed that fact to memory. “Still, no. No lingerie. I said I’d get him slippers. He, um, has really cold feet but I want to get him something else.”

 

“The man likes his whiskey, right?” Morgan commented. “Get him a nice bottle.”

 

“That might work,” Spencer mused.

 

“You don’t want to go over the top,” Morgan continued. “I mean, you’re setting the bar here. Don’t make it too high. It’s like you don’t go all out on the first date ‘cause then she’s gonna think that’s the gold standard and you’ll be working evert goddamn day to meet it.”

 

“Jesus, Derek, you going to pull out the ‘treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen’ line next?” Emily raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

 

“No, ma’am. My momma taught me to treat ladies with respect and care. I’m just saying that you don’t want to buy a Mercedes as the first Christmas present.”

 

“He would probably need a car,” Spencer muttered. “I don’t think I can afford another car.”

 

“What does he like?” Emily asked.

 

“Music. Reading. The Holy Trinity?” Spencer said, feeling very much on the spot. “He does woodworking. He carved the confessional in the church. It’s beautiful. He collects records. Always has new books from the library. He doesn’t care much about clothes but he likes soft sweaters.”

 

“Alright, so focus on those things.”

 

“I wouldn’t know where to start with his music and he’s got so much that I’d probably end up getting something he already has. I think his tools belong to the church so I could maybe get him some of those but I don’t know where he’ll do his whittling? It’s whittling, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Morgan piped up. “That could be an expensive gift though. A set of those tools don’t come cheap.”

 

“You know books, Spencer. Go for what you know,” Emily offered with an encouraging smile.

 

“I could look at religious texts, though that could be pricey too. Not that I want to skimp on price. I just know that, well, um, I don’t want to embarrass Aaron either. I mean, he, uh, doesn’t make much of a salary, you know, so I, uh, don’t want him to feel he has to reciprocate on a grand scale.”

 

“Well, you’re going to have to table this riveting discussion,” Ryan commented, appearing beside Morgan’s desk. “We’ve got a case out in Chula Vista, California. Straight to the plane. There’s two missing girls. We’re on the clock.” He walked off without waiting for a reply.

 

“Better put that key somewhere safe,” Morgan muttered as he packed up his desk. “Doesn’t look like you’re carrying him over the threshold tonight.”

 

“No,” Spencer sighed as they all prepared to head to the airstrip. He texted Aaron from the SUV, apologising for not seeing him tonight and received the usual admonition to stay safe. Aaron continued to say or send that every time Spencer went on a case and every time it made him feel disproportionately warm and loved. Knowing that there was someone at home waiting and worrying about him made him want to try his best to fulfil the unvoiced promise that he would come back to Aaron. He knew it wasn’t a promise he could every truly say aloud but he thought it every time. No gift would ever be able to repay what Aaron had given him over the past few months but he’d try to get something that would at least be representative. He just had to figure out what that would be, but not now. Now, he needed to focus on two missing girls who needed to get back to their families.

 

The flight was long and the day dragged as they seemed to be blocked and lied to at every turn by one of the fathers and another man who Spencer was calling his handler, in his head. Tempers flared as JJ did her best to keep the peace between the irascible Ryan and the increasingly aggressive father, while the other parents seemed to curl in on themselves in a corner. By two in the morning, Morgan had nearly punched his fist through a wall, Emily was snapping at everyone who came within two feet of her, Spencer had smashed a coffee cup (though that was totally an accident, it really had just slipped out his hand), Garcia was responding in monosyllables, and one girl was dead. A happy ending was already out of the question when Ryan ordered them all back to the hotel to get some fucking sleep.

 

Spencer felt like he was already mostly asleep as he stumbled into his hotel room, bouncing off the wall with a muffled curse, but he hadn’t spoken to Aaron all day and he needed to hear his voice, even just for a moment.

 

“Good morning,” Aaron answered the phone brightly, reminding Spencer of the time difference as he felt wrung out with exhaustion.

 

“I haven’t been to bed yet,” Spencer grumbled. “But I wanted to get you before mass.”

 

“How’s it going?”

 

“Terrible. Everyone is terrible. Everything is terrible and people are keeping secrets. It’s annoying. I’m annoyed.”

 

“You sound it. Go to sleep, Spence. I’ll talk to you later.”

 

“I want to talk to you now,” Spencer whinged, fully aware he sounded like a petulant child.

 

“I know but you sound like you really need some sleep.”

 

“We could do the phone sex thing properly this time,” Spencer suggested, already working to undo his tie and slip his belt open.

 

“Spencer,” Aaron hissed, “I’m about to lead mass.”

 

“We’ll make it quick,” Spencer mumbled as he crumpled onto his hotel bed, curling into a ball. “I’ll keep talking. You like that. You can imagine me on my knees praying and then you can come all over my face.”

 

“Spencer. Enough. You’re half asleep and not aware of what you’re saying.”

 

“I love you. I want you to come on my face,” Spencer muttered half into the pillow, half into the phone that was balancing on the side of his head.

 

“I love you too but really cannot have this discussion now.”

 

“I’d come on your face,” Spencer slurred and heard a cut off curse before Aaron hung up. Even in his haze of exhaustion, Spencer realized that he had probably just said some things he shouldn’t have but the draw of sleep was too strong between the late hour and the jet lag so he was out before he had even formulated an apology in his mind.

 

Spencer was awoken by Morgan’s fist pounding on his door and the barked command to get up. The remaining girl’s father had taken off after the kidnapper and apparently he was some kind of mafia enforcer. Spencer quickly retied his shoes and it was as he was buckling his belt that he was suddenly hit by the memory of what he’d been saying to Aaron last night. His stomach rolled. He really shouldn’t have done that. Honestly, there was never a reason for him to get drunk; exhaustion made him just as stupid and verbose. There was no time to call Aaron back now but he could text him an apology from the car.

 

“ – in witness protection,” JJ was explaining to a tired looking Emily as Reid slipped into the back seat.

 

Emily yawned widely. “And they’re just telling us now.”

 

“Need to know,” JJ grumbled. “Apparently we only needed to know now.”

 

Spencer half-listened to their disparagement of everyone involved as he formulated his reply to Aaron. Writing and re-writing the text several times before settling on: ‘I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable’. Gratifyingly his phone beeped a moment later but the reply of: ‘We’ll talk about it later’ made him feel like he was about to throw up.

 

“You alright, Spence?” JJ asked, glancing back through the rear-view mirror. “You look pale.”

 

“Fine. Tired.” Spencer muttered before adding, “Need coffee.” That was apparently a good enough misdirection as JJ offered to stop at the Starbucks next to the police station as the coffee there was truly terrible and why couldn’t they get good coffee in stations. It really should be mandatory. Spencer let JJ’s monologue wash over him as he desperately hoped that he hadn’t truly fucked things up with Aaron this time. He shouldn’t be pushing the sexual side of their relationship so much. God knows, Aaron was new to all of that and Spencer should be making more of an effort to keep the pace slow. It was just so difficult to remember that now that he knew how responsive Aaron was, how good he looked naked, that little choked noise that he made as he came that was somehow simultaneously adorable and erotic. It was so easy to forget that Aaron had spent forty two years as a virgin and that Spencer was the one who was corrupting him and leading him away from the path that he had walked for his entire life.

 

Pulling up in front of the coffee shop, dragged Spencer from his increasingly self-recriminatory reverie and offered to get the coffee just so Emily wouldn’t notice his mood and start quizzing him about what was bothering him. Hiding from the team for the rest of the day was probably his best option. However, as it turned out, he needn’t have worried as a couple of hours later he was standing it a crappy little bathroom trying to convince an angry father that shooting a kid in the face with a shotgun wouldn’t make anything better while his daughter begged him to kill. There weren’t many things that Spencer had failed at in life. He’d made a career of excelling, of surpassing expectations. He’d lived a life that was mostly triumphant despite being marred by his mother’s illness and the cruelty of his peers. Mostly, he was proud of his track record and he was especially proud of his skill with words. His mind was his sharpest weapon. He could flail a man with the right pithy epithet but in this job there were too many parameters to take into account and sometimes everything just went to shit. His words failed him and he felt all his breath leave his lungs as the shot rang out and the kid’s face was reduced to a fleshy hole. As the father and daughter were dragged from the room, Spencer stared at the feet sticking out of the stall, ripped jeans, old sneakers, belt with a large metal buckle, hands flat, palms up, fingers curled in supplication, long sleeved white T-shirt splattered with red, black T-shirt on top logo indiscernible, remains of a jaw hanging loose, everything else gone, brown hair stuck in clumps to the wall. Spencer catalogued it all as his failure until Morgan touched his arm and he holstered his gun, spinning on his heel, and calmly walking away until he was in the SUV, until they were packing up at the police station, until they were on the jet.

 

“So, have you decided what to get Aaron for Christmas yet?” Emily asked as the cruised at 30,000 feet on their way back home.

 

“No. I don’t even know if he’s going to be talking to me.” Spencer leaned his forehead against the cool glass and tried to shut out the reverberating sound of a gunshot that kept ringing in his ears. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut but that was worse because all he could see was the bloodied mess of brain matter sprayed across the tiles of that dingy bathroom. Emily laid her hand over his left elbow and squeezed. Without thought, Spencer wrenched his arm from her grip, breathing heavily.

 

“Spencer, what happened back there was not your fault. We can’t control people’s actions.”

 

“I said all the right things.”

 

“And sometimes that still leads to the wrong outcome. Don’t do anything that you’ll regret.”

 

“I’m not going to go looking for drugs,” Spencer hissed at her, very aware of Max Ryan sitting at the other end of the jet, “and I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention it here in front of our superiors, Prentiss.”

 

“Yeah, because not talking about it has been so effective in the past.” Emily crossed her arms and glared at him.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Are you going to go see Aaron?”

 

“I’m going to call him. As I said, I don’t know if he wants to see me.”

 

“Whatever you said can’t be that bad. The man is leaving his job for you.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Go see him.”

 

“Or what?”

 

“Or I’ll get Morgan to call him.”

 

“How do you even know Morgan has his number? Do you guys talk about this?”

 

“Spencer, this is the most interesting thing to happen in ages. The only thing that would trump it is JJ getting knocked up by her ‘secret’ Cajun cop.”

 

“That’ll never happen,” Spencer scoffed.

 

“Well, you know when a man and a woman love each other very much they do a special dance and sometimes that brings a baby.”

 

Spencer looked at her in horror, “Was that the sex education speech your mother gave you?”

 

“Please. My mother delegated that to the maid who was remarkably knowledgeable. That was what I was taught in school. Go see Aaron.” The seatbelt light flashed and they both buckled in as the jet began to descend towards Washington DC. As Spencer looked out the window, they ducked beneath the clouds and the city was spread out beneath him in shades of wintery grey, washed out green, white stone and flashing glass. He stared at the wearisome city scape and thought of his home town with its constant flashing bright lights that welcomed every visitor and enticed them to sin. He knew it wasn’t possible but as the plane banked he thought he saw a vivid flash of neon red that seemed to be beckoning him home. Aaron, he sighed, he’d go and see him because he needed to know but mostly because he needed the other man, as selfish as that was.

 

“Aaron?” Spencer asked the silent church and was rewarded by his partner’s head popping up from underneath one of the pews.

 

“Something had come loose,” Aaron offered as explanation. “I could hear it squeaking all through service every time David stopped for breath. How are you?”

 

“Not so good. I just saw a kid get his face blown off with a shotgun.” Spencer slumped down onto the pew which creaked ominously. Aaron frowned at it but sat down next to Spencer, twining their fingers together.

 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer.”

 

“I’m not sure you should be. He was a rapist and a murderer.”

 

“Still, he shouldn’t have died that way.”

 

“A little girl thought he should have. She begged her dad to shoot him.”

 

Spencer heard the sharp intake of breath beside him. “What will happen to her now that her father’s in prison?”

 

“He’s not. He’s a key witness is a big case. Witness protection. They’ve probably already got new names and a new home. Welcome to the justice system.”

 

“What can I do to help?”

 

“Tell me I did the right thing.”

 

“I’m sure you did.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“I believe in you.”

 

“You believe in a lot of things that are largely irrational.”

 

“Are you wanting me to argue with you?” Spencer heard the confusion in Aaron’s tone. “You sound like you’re trying to pick a fight.”

 

“No. Sorry. No. I just – Never mind. I’ve got something for you.” Spencer dug around in his messenger bag and pulled out the key. “I wanted to give it to you before we got called out but I didn’t get the time and then I was inappropriate on the phone and I was worried that when I got here you wouldn’t want it and now I’ve been rude instead of apologizing and maybe you don’t want it.”

 

“I do. Of course I do. I’ll got get my coat. There’s a couple of hours before I need to be back here and David’s in the back working on something. I’ll come home with you.”

 

“You don’t need to do that. You’ll be in the door and back out again.”

 

“Well then,” Aaron smiled as he stood, brushing dust off his slacks. “I’ll be able to check that the keys words for both locking and unlocking.” He pulled Spencer to his feet and the younger man went willingly, surprised when Aaron crowded in to his personal space as they were in a relatively public area. “I’ve missed you and, if I’m reading you right, I think that maybe you need me right now. We’d have time to, you know, do something. If you wanted.”

 

“Yes.” Spencer gasped. Honestly, he had wanted to ask for sex but hadn’t felt that it was quite right especially not after Aaron had hung up on him. He was still somewhat nervous about spooking the other man, except apparently when he was flat out exhausted, even though he was apparently enjoying the newly sexual aspect of their relationship as much as Spencer. After everything he’d seen, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Aaron’s body, even if it was on borrowed time.

 

“Alright, do you want to bring the car to the door while I go tell David where I’m going?”

 

“Sure,” Spencer squeezed Aaron’s hand once before exiting the church. Nodding to a middle aged woman who passed him in the door and headed towards the font. It was a reminder that they would have to be more careful about showing affection in public places. At least for a couple more months. The last thing he wanted to do was to get Aaron fired.

 

“We should probably stop being so close when we’re out,” Spencer commented as Aaron slid into the car.

 

“Why?” Aaron unzipped his jacket. Spencer always had the heat turned up on full because it was winter and it was unnaturally cold. Seriously, he wasn’t built for this weather.

 

“Well, that woman nearly saw us sitting holding hands.”

 

“I often hold hands with my parishioners. It’s an act of comfort.”

 

“I think it’s a little different when we do it. Or I hope it is.”

 

“Of course. I just meant that to the outside world, it wouldn’t look strange. Spencer, is everything okay?”

 

“You said you wanted to talk. Now you took the key and are coming home with me. I don’t know what’s going on.” Spencer admitted, chewing nervously at his lower lip. The action reminded him of the way the kid in the bathroom had bit hard on his lip, eyes shifting desperately looking for a non-existent escape route. He didn’t want to think of that. He wanted Aaron’s naked body under his palms. He wanted to trace every angle of his jaw, sharp cheekbones, that little mole on his cheek, just to be sure he was still there and whole not a gaping cavern of bloody tissue. Shaking his head, he refocused on the man next to him. He didn’t think that this was a one last time for the road kind of thing but he also still wasn’t sure what Aaron would have to say during their talk. His understanding was that talking was entirely beneficial for a relationship but that the phrase ‘we need to talk’ was a death knoll. Aaron’s text had been somewhere in between so he had been unable to extrapolate on which end of the spectrum this talk would lie.

 

“Ah, yes. I did want to talk to you about what you were talking about the other morning.”

 

“I really am sorry, Aaron. I say the stupidest things when I’m tired. I just wasn’t thinking and my mouth was running. I am so sorry.”

 

“You don’t need to apologize. That wasn’t my issue.”

 

“Oh, um. Okay. So what do we need to talk about?”

 

“I thought we should talk about things that you might want. You know, sexually. I, um, I have no idea if this is something that’s usually discussed but I don’t want you to be scared to ask me to, uh, try something.” Aaron was growing redder as he talked, his knuckles were near white where he was holding onto his knees. “I would be open to, you know, doing that thing that you said. If you were, um, serious.”

 

“You want to come on my face?” Spencer blurted out.

 

“Yes,” Aaron whispered, his voice sounding strange. “I’m sorry if that’s inappropriate.”

 

“Not at all. I would love you to come on my face,” Spencer assured him and then cringed. “That was probably a little too eager.”

 

“No. That was fine. I want to know what you want. Anything else?”

 

“You want me just to tell you everything I want because it’s a long list.” Right now, he just wanted to forget but that wasn’t a very romantic or sexy thing to say.

 

“Oh, um. How about you tell me what you want to do now, well not now but when we get to your apartment?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aaron shift in his seat and his eyes were drawn to the growing bulge in his black slacks.

 

“You want to hear it, don’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Aaron whispered again.

 

“I don’t mind. I want to know what you want too. So, if anything I say now doesn’t appeal you have to tell me and then we can either put it off or not do it at all. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Aaron answered eagerly.

 

“You can touch yourself, if you want,” Spencer threw out and heard Aaron gasp in shock. “No one will see. Only if you want.” Aaron didn’t answer but Spencer saw his fingers twitch. “Okay, what do I want to do with you?” Spencer thought for a moment before conjuring one of his favourite fantasies in his mind. “I’ll stand behind you while you stand in front of the big mirror in my bedroom. I’ll kiss your neck, licking, biting, but I won’t leave a mark. Not there. My fingers will start flicking open the buttons of your shirt, pull that white collar free and fling it away. I’ll keep kissing and biting until your shirt is fully open revealing all that toned muscle that you hide behind your starched shirts and stiff robes. I’ll run my fingers over every indentation of muscle and then I’ll trace so gently over your nipples, just to see if you like it and you will. Your hips will jerk at the slightest touch so I’ll drag my thumbnail over it and your knees will almost buckle. I’ll twist it slightly and you’ll moan, leaning back into me, one hand coming up to tug at my hair. Once you’re panting and desperate, I’ll dance my fingers down your stomach until they’re dipping just under your waistband, fingertips scratching into the thick hair which, by the way, you should never shave. I like you natural. I’ll pull open your flies so your pants slide down your legs and your boxers will follow so that you’re standing in front of me with just your open shirt on, black against your pale skin. We’re so close in height that I’ll be able to just nestle my cock against your ass. I’m naked by the way. Magic. And then I’ll turn you around and back you up against the mirror and you’ll hiss because it’s cold but I’ll be right there on my knees in front of you. I’ll lick from the base of your cock right up to the tip and you’ll be dripping already, so desperate for me. As I suck on the head, your hands will twist in my hair. I like that. I like to have my hair pulled. You can fuck my mouth if you want but for now, since it’s your first blowjob, I’ll suck and lick, I’ll take your cock so far down my throat that I’ll be gagging but I love it. I want to choke on your cock.” Spencer paused, breathing heavily as he heard Aaron whimper beside him. “Is this okay?”

 

“Please don’t stop.” Aaron gasped and Spencer looked over at him just in time to see him press the heel of his hand against his cock.

 

“Can I do that? Can I suck you off?”

 

“Yes, please.”

 

“Wow. Okay. Great.”

 

“Go on. We’re not there yet.”

 

“Okay, well don’t cum now.” Spencer waited until Aaron reluctantly replaced his hands on his knees. “So then you’ll tell me that you’re close and I’ll pull off, wrapping my hand around your cock, my mouth open and waiting and you’ll do that little noise you do and then you’ll be coming all over my face. Most of it will go in my mouth and I’ll swallow it all. I’ll wipe my face and then lick it off my hand. I’ll lick you clean and then you’ll kiss me and it’ll be different because you’ll be tasting your own cum. Have you ever done that?”

 

“No!” Aaron looked over at him in shock. “When would I have done that?”

 

“I don’t know. We’re nearly there. Is all of that okay?”

 

“Yes. I, ah, I don’t know if I’ll like that thing with the nipples but you can, um, try it.”

 

“Okay.” Spencer smiled over at him as he pulled into a parking space before cutting the engine. Aaron moved to get out of the car but Spencer stopped him with a hand on his thigh. “You want this, right Aaron? You’re not just doing this to make me happy? Because you really don’t need to do that. Even if we never did anything sexual ever again, I’d be happy just to hold you every night for the rest of my life.”

 

“I know and no. I very much want this too. I want it all, Spence.” Aaron looked away out of the window at the grey skies. “I want to try it all. I want to try, you know, sodomy.”

 

“Oh. Well, we can discuss that later and maybe call it something else so that it doesn’t sound like hellfire is going to rain down on our bed.”

 

“Yeah,” Aaron grimaced slightly. “So can we go up now?”

 

“Definitely,” Spencer laughed and hopped out the car. He grasped Aaron’s hand and led him up the staircase until they got to the door where he rooted in his pocket again for Aaron’s key. Spencer handed Aaron his key at the front door with a broad grin, which Aaron returned before turning to slide it in to the lock. Spencer stepped up close behind him, plastering himself along Aaron’s back and whispering in his ear as one arm looped around his waist: “Should I carry you over the threshold?”

 

Aaron turned in his grasp as the door swung open, kissing his way into Spencer’s mouth before breaking it off as he stepped into their apartment: “We’re not married. Yet.” He grinned and left Spencer standing in the hallway somewhat shell-shocked as Aaron disappeared into the bedroom. Aaron would never cease to surprise him. It suddenly hit him that he was going to spend the rest of his life with this amazing man whose light could surpass the darkness on even his worst days.

 

“Get in here now or I’m unbuttoning my own shirt,” Aaron shouted and Spencer jumped to attention before quickly locking the door behind him and practically running to the bedroom. He had a promise to fulfil and then he really needed to go Christmas shopping.


	14. Judgement

After a week of quiet preparations for Christmas in the church, seeing Spencer every day, eating meals together and mind blowing sex, Aaron should have known that they were overdue for the shit hitting the fan. He just thought that he would be the one causing the problems. He imagined being chased out of the church by parishioners with pitchforks because someone had picture of him holding Spencer’s hand in the Smithsonian gardens last Tuesday evening. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to maintain the pretence of being a pious, chaste priest when every night he was writhing and moaning under the ministrations of Spencer’s mouth and tongue. Aaron would never regret this relationship with Spencer and how it had progressed. Honestly, he had expected to freak out after Spencer had gone down on him for the first time but all that he had felt was elation. There was something about Spencer’s reactions, the way he moaned, the way his back arched at the slightest touch, which left Aaron breathless with power and awe. It was so far removed from how he had spent his life in service that he was often taken aback by how much he wanted to own Spencer, almost as much as he wanted to be owned by the other man. Sometimes, Aaron was tempted to suck his own marks into Spencer’s skin, a brand to match the ones that were scattered across his collarbones but he hadn’t so far. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Spencer’s reaction as much as that he was still coming to terms with the ferocity of his own desire. Spencer had always been caring and patient. The movement from kissing chastely on the sofa to lying on his back naked and panting as Spencer sucked on his cock had seemed natural and that was a position that he’d found himself in frequently over the past week. To his never ending amazement, Spencer seemed to relish giving him pleasure as much as reaching his own orgasm. Still, sometimes Aaron wanted to push him and be pushed, sometimes he wanted to take and be taken. He wasn’t entirely sure where these ideas came from but they were heady and intoxicating.

 

The beauty of it all was that it wasn’t just wild sex. Spencer was as intellectually stimulating as he was sexually and hours could still be passed in discussion. The young man was becoming more reticent about hanging out at the church, more afraid than Aaron of them being discovered, but David was slowly assuming more of the duties that Aaron had traditionally taken on himself. Sometimes that hurt. Aaron wished that he could stay in the church and stay with Spencer but that wasn’t an option and, despite his own failure to follow the tenets of priesthood, Aaron still remained a Catholic, he was still firm in his opinion that the Church of Rome was the true path to God. He didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. He was too old for any more revelations. And so, it was with a somewhat heavy heart that he strung up more banners and lights with a group of rowdy teenagers on Wednesday night, fully aware that this was his last Christmas in a collar. The kids had really come through this year. The blood red banners were artfully splashed with artistic sprigs of holly and one of them had rigged up a nativity scene out of mannequins donated by a clothing store that had gone out of business a month previously. The Virgin Mary was a statuesque brunette, toe pointed and hand stretched out behind her as if she was about to catwalk her way back to Nazareth, her blue robes billowing in an elegant manner with the help of some pins and the artistic eye of Ellie Spicer who had dreams of studying fashion design. When David had seen the nativity, he had crossed himself and muttered a prayer for forgiveness under his breath but still congratulated Ellie on a good job. Aaron was just happy that his friend had been too preoccupied by the stylish mother of God to notice that the angel Gabriel’s expression was closer to sexual than religious ecstasy and that the baby Jesus had his mouth open in a perpetual scream. Aaron had pretty much smothered the abomination with the blankets after peeping into the crib. Why had that ever been made and why had someone displayed it in a shop window?

 

Now the decorations were finished, mass was over, and he had to start planning his free hours tomorrow. This morning Spencer had flown out to Texas. Truthfully, Aaron had been relieved that he finally had some time to do some very necessary Christmas shopping. If he used his time wisely, he could get everything tomorrow and never have to venture out into those crowds again. Most of it was easy: the usual bottle of whiskey for David, a book for his brother. This year, though, he had another present to buy and it had to be something special. This required detailed planning and the use of the laptop David had lent him. Usually, he just used the computers at the library but he needed time and he also didn’t want to be observed. After evening mass, he’d poured himself a drink and fired up a search engine, fingers poised and slightly shaking as he asked God’s forgiveness for the path he was about to travel. Another sip of whiskey and he started to type. It took a couple of hours but he’d found the perfect gift, placed his order and it would be delivered to Spencer’s address but with his name on it. No need to go to any shop. He trusted the other man not to open his mail and the company had promised that there would be no indication on the outside of the package as to its contents.

 

He’d been buzzing with success and no small level of anxiety after having his payment confirmed. When he’d gone to bed that night, he’d been worried Spencer would call and he’d blurt out the surprise but Spencer hadn’t called. He didn’t call the following morning either and Aaron’s excitement was waning. Spencer had been gone for over two days now. It was only a couple more days until Christmas and it was bothering Aaron that he hadn’t heard the other man’s voice. It was unusual. He’d sent intermittent texts but they’d been short and to the point. Each one of Aaron’s how are you? texts had been answered by a fine, okay, or busy. That wasn’t like Spencer and each time Aaron had called it had rung out or gone straight to voicemail. Surely someone would have informed him if there had been an accident, Aaron assured himself, as he absently carved an old piece of wood into a simple spoon. Another glass of whiskey sat untouched on the table after David had given him a concerned glance and reminded him about evening mass before leaving for a choir concert being given in the city. He didn’t need the alcohol really. He just needed to hear from Spencer. On cue, his phone rang and he lunged at it, fumbling to answer before the second ring.

 

“Hello?” he asked, anticipating the warm tones of his partner.

 

“Aaron, it’s Derek Morgan.”

 

“Oh,” Aaron’s blood ran cold but he forced a genial tone to his voice. He wasn’t going to assume the worst. “Good to hear from you. How’s the case going?”

 

“I thought you should know that I am about two fucking seconds away from killing your idiot of a boyfriend.” Aaron sighed a deep sigh of relief, Spencer was alive. Apparently he was an idiot but he was a living, breathing idiot so he could handle whatever else Morgan had to say. “He just stepped out in front of an assault rifle. Blocked my fucking shot. Shit. He wasn’t even wearing his fucking vest. You better talk some sense into your boy. Right now, I’m feeling like kicking his fucking ass and I’m gonna have to take a number because it’s a long line.”

 

“But he’s okay?”

 

“Yes, he’s fucking fine but that kid needs to learn the value of his own life and stop sympathising so much with the bad guys. Jesus, Aaron, if that kid had fired that gun we’d be having a very different conversation right now. A conversation which I never want to have with you.”

 

“No. I hope we never have that conversation,” Aaron murmured back. “Are you here yet?”

 

“We’re getting on the jet now. I think Ryan’s about to tear Spencer a new one. I can’t say I disagree. You might want to get yourself to his apartment or something, though. I don’t know how he’s going to take this.”

 

“When will you be back?”

 

“Give it four hours by the time we land and everything. You gonna be there ‘cause if not I’m gonna go back with him and give him a damn good talk.”

 

“No. I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

 

“Oh, I’ll fucking worry about him. That kid’ll be the death of me, I tell you. But alright, man, you take care of him tonight. Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Aaron responded by rote, not sure why Morgan was thanking him, and then he hung up the phone and straightened his cassock, brushing wood shavings onto the floor. Pouring his whiskey down the sink, he fought the urge to run to Spencer’s right now. There was no point. Spencer wouldn’t be there and he still had an evening mass to deliver before he got the bus to Spencer’s apartment to wait for him and figure out exactly what he wanted to say about his partner’s blatant disregard for his own personal safety.

 

When Aaron arrived the apartment was dark, something was blocking the door from opening the whole way and he had to push it with his shoulder. Flicking on the light, he saw it was a non-descript thin brown package addressed to him. His stomach rolled with anticipation when he realized that it was Spencer’s Christmas present. He piled the rest of Spencer’s mail on the side table and considered where he could hide the present. The hidden panel behind the facing of the bath crossed his mind and he was suddenly hit with the fearful thought that, if he opened it, he might find more drugs there. Shaking his head, he forced himself to trust Spencer. It was just that Sean had let him down so many times over the years that there was this lingering doubt and mistrust. Plus, he rationalized to himself, it was a good hiding place and if it was empty then Spencer wouldn’t look there anytime soon. If Spencer found the present, then Aaron would have to worry that he’d been trying to hide drugs. He was already running his fingernail down the side of the bath until he found the little indentation before he’d finished that convoluted train of thought and the side of the bath crashed to the ground as he realized this was possibly a betrayal of Spencer’s trust.

 

His breath caught in his throat as he saw something bundled up in a dark green plastic bag. He reached for it, unable to believe that Spencer was hiding more drugs but when he eased it from its place, he found it to be impossibly heavily. Peeking into the bag, he saw a flash of silver and a package wrapped in gaudy red paper. Pulling it out, he realized that it was probably a book of some sort, neatly wrapped in paper covered in dancing Santa Clauses with a silver tag. Spencer’s beautiful script identified the present as being for Aaron, with love from Spencer. Aaron grinned and held the gift close to his chest for a moment before tightly folding the plastic bag around it and returning it to the hiding place. Once the bath front was pushed back into space, Aaron realized that he would have to tell Spencer about what had happened and that he still needed to find somewhere to put his gift and he needed to wrap it, although possibly in something a little more muted.

 

Eventually, he stashed it on top of the kitchen cabinets, far enough back that he couldn’t see it from any point in the kitchen. The thick layer of dust up there assured him that Spencer wouldn’t find him and reminded him that they would need to have a talk about chores when he moved in, if Spencer still wanted him after the talk they were going to have. The elation over the lack of drugs, and the fact that Spencer had got him a gift had been replaced by the ice cold grip of fear that had wrapped its fingers around his heart at the thought that Spencer had put himself in such a position that he would have been unable to give Aaron that gift.

 

That thought remained with Aaron as he waited, sitting on the couch, his collar loose and his sleeves rolled up. He’d turned on the small table lamp and left a post-it note on Spencer’s door so the other man would know he was there. Spencer had warned him that it would probably take him a while to adjust to living with another person and not automatically thinking that some felon had got out and tracked him down. Aaron didn’t want this conversation to start with him on the floor with his hands wrenched behind his back. He tensed further when he recognised Spencer’s footsteps on the stairs. Part of him just wanted to grab the other man and hold him but at the moment his anger was winning. It had been a very long time since he’d been this furious and he wasn’t sure that he should be confronting Spencer at this moment. He’d devoted a lifetime to mastering the rage that he’d inherited from his father and Spencer had never seen him even slightly angry before. This might be the biggest mistake of this relationship. He probably should have stayed at home tonight but here he was and Spencer’s key was turning in the lock and he could feel Spencer standing behind the sofa.

 

“I’ve been suspended for two weeks,” Spencer mumbled. Aaron stood and turned to see his partner staring at his shoes and wringing the strap of his leather bag in his hands.

 

“I know.”

 

“You’re here. So, I guess Morgan called you.”

 

“He was angry, scared. When he told me, I was scared now I’ll be honest I am so angry. You might be the smartest agent out there but you’re not the only one. Honestly, what were you thinking, Spencer?”

 

“I was thinking that would be the second time a kid died in front of me,” Spencer muttered and Aaron sighed in frustration and understanding, rounding the sofa to stand in front of Spencer. “It was my turn to save one,” Spencer continued, his voice strengthening as he finally raised his gaze to meet’s Aarons, his eyes shining with conviction.

 

“It doesn’t work like that.”

 

“Why? Because I should leave it to the will of God. Leave it to people like you to save their souls. I wasn’t going to watch Owen get his brains blown out because the small minded people of that town seemed to think that excuses like ‘boys will be boys’ are enough.”

 

“I’m not saying leave it to God,” Aaron shouted back as Spencer raised his voice. “I’m saying think about your own safety. Think about other people. What about your team who were terrified that they were about to watch you get shot and they couldn’t do anything about it? Morgan just kept repeating that your blocked his shot with your body. That he couldn’t have done anything to save you if Owen had decided to shoot. I mean, Spencer, what about me? What would I have done if Morgan had called me tonight to tell me that you were – that you were dead? You are my life, now. Without you I have nothing. Less than nothing because every single day I will have to live with the knowledge of what I’ve lost. Maybe next time, before you put yourself in danger you could think of me.”

 

“We’ve had this discussion, Aaron. This is my job.”

 

“Morgan sure as hell didn’t seem to think you were doing your job today. Apparently your bosses don’t either because they suspended you.”

 

“Yeah, well, Owen is a fuck load better off because I didn’t let them kill him. He was just a kid. A kid who was horribly bullied and humiliated and didn’t know what to do. I get that.”

 

“You think I don’t? You think I didn’t dream about grabbing one of my father’s hunting rifles and shooting him straight between the eyes, when I was a kid? There are other options. There are always other options.”

 

“Oh right, yeah, we should all run away from our problems.”

 

“I did not run away,” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest, his voice like steel. “I made a choice. A valid choice. Owen did not.”

 

“He didn’t have anyone to support him.”

 

“Neither did you! You didn’t go full on Columbine.”

 

“It was close,” Spencer admitted, chewing on his bottom lip, his anger dissipating. “There was one time when I really thought about it. Not with a gun. I was going to build a bomb. I planned it. I calculated where to put it in the school and when to detonate it for maximum destruction and casualties. I was so close to doing so much worse than Owen did.”

 

“What pushed you to that edge?” Aaron asked, taking a step towards Spencer but the other man just wrapped his arms around his waist and curled away from Aaron, turning to look out the windows at the city lights. When he spoke, his voice was hollow.

 

“I told Morgan this story already. There was this girl. She was pretty and popular and I was told she liked me. She wanted to meet me after school on the football fields. I wasn’t interested, really. I mean, I was only twelve but I already figured that I was gay but I thought that if I didn’t go then I’d get beat up for being a fag. Turned out she wasn’t really into me at all. It was just a ruse to lure me there and mock me. The whole – the whole football team was there. They, uh, they stripped me naked and, um, tied me to the goalposts. It took me hours to free myself and, when I finally got home, Mom didn’t even know what day it was let alone the time. She hadn’t realized I was missing. I mean, I bet if there had been camera phones, they would have filmed it just like they did to Owen so, yeah, I get him. I nearly was him.”

 

“But you weren’t,” Aaron repeated firmly. “What stopped you?”

 

“A couple of days later I got my acceptance letter to CalTech. I knew I was leaving and it wasn’t worth it. They weren’t worth throwing away my future. Owen didn’t have anywhere to go.”

 

Aaron sighed heavily, “Talk me through it. Talk me through it all.”

 

“What?” Spencer looked over at him sadly.

 

“Tell me about the case,” Aaron clarified, gesturing to the sofa. “I’ll make some coffee.”

 

Spencer sat as Aaron clattered around the kitchen, making coffee and attempting to get a hold of his temper. He would listen. He’d made a career out of being a good listener and he needed to remember that now. After several deep breaths, he walked back into the living room with two mugs of coffee and a determination to hear Spencer out without bias. The younger man was still seated on the couch, his shoulders hunched and his hands hanging between his knees. He looked worn out and beaten down. When Aaron settled next to him, he didn’t even look up but just mumbled: “Do we have to do this now?”

 

“Is the case bothering you?”

 

“You would know if I lied so, yes.”

 

“Then we have to do this now.”

 

Spencer sighed. “We were called out after an explosion in West Bune, Texas. At the time the victims were believed to be Rod Norris and his daughter Jordan. When the cops arrived at the scene, the presumed arsonist was waiting for them and fired on them with an automatic weapon. We arrived and profiled that it was an injustice collector, similar to other school shooters and identified him as Owen Savage, son of one of the cops that was killed at the scene of the explosion.”

 

“He killed his own father?”

 

“Haven’t we all wanted to shoot our fathers point blank in the face with an assault rifle at some point? Aaron remained silent but, inside his mind, he was screaming yes. Spencer levelled him with a look that told him that he’d been heard loud and clear. “Owen had learning difficulties but his father dismissed him as stupid despite his high grades in science and math. His mother had been killed in a drunk driving accident a year before.”

 

“Did he go after the drunk driver?” Aaron asked, sipping his coffee.

 

“His mother was the drunk driver. So, no. He went after anyone who had wronged him or his girlfriend Jordan, whom we quickly realized was alive after the remains turned out to be ribeye steaks stuffed into a pair of her jeans. JJ and Emily tried to get to Owen through her. Her best friend agreed to get her on the phone but she loved Owen so much that she wouldn’t believe anything we said. Even when we sent her the video of Owen killing three boys on his wrestling team. They’d filmed him masturbating in the shower and put it on the internet. They humiliated him.”

 

“They didn’t deserve to die for that.”

 

“No,” Spencer admitted with another sigh. “He played Johnny Cash while he killed them. It was a song off that album that I bought at your suggestion.” Aaron winced but Spencer just shrugged. “It’s a good song. It’s been stuck in my head for a couple of days now. He had a thing for Johnny Cash, posters on his wall, dressed all in back.”

 

“The misunderstood loner, standing up against injustice. There’s a lot to admire and identify with when it comes to the Man in Black,” Aaron agreed.

 

“Is that why you wear all black?” Spencer asked with an attempt at a smile.

 

“I’m just really bad at keeping my whites white,” Aaron returned with a grin. “What happened next?”

 

“Before the wrestling team, he killed a kid who had slept with his girlfriend and spread it around the school. And finally he killed the man whose cabin they were squatting in. That was his mistake. Jordan saw him burying the corpse and she ran. She ran from him in fear. He – uh – he couldn’t take that so he came to the station with an assault rifle intent on killing himself and everyone he could.” Spencer stopped talking, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. Aaron knew the next part but he still had to ask.

 

“And then what?”

 

“You know.”

 

“I want to hear it.”

 

“And then I took off my vest and placed myself in front of his gun.”

 

“In front of a goddamn assault rifle?”

 

“You really shouldn’t swear in your profession.”

 

“Morgan said you blocked his shot.”

 

“I did. I wasn’t going to let them kill Owen before I had a chance to talk to him.”

 

“And what if he decided to kill you.”

 

“I needed to give him a chance to see that he didn’t have to die. No one else had to die. It worked. He’s in jail but he’s alive. I’m alive.”

 

Not even really sure what he was doing, Aaron grabbed Spencer’s biceps and spun him to face him, manhandling him so that they were pressed together on the sofa, Aaron glaring into those wide hazel eyes for a moment before he mashed their lips together in a terrified kiss, a kiss that was an attempt to convey how utterly broken Aaron would have been without Spencer. The other man returned it in kind, tongues tangling as Spencer gripped Aaron’s waist with sharp fingers.

 

“I’m still angry at you,” Aaron murmured, pulling back just enough to talk before pushing back into another kiss.

 

“I know,” Spencer whispered, pushing Aaron back onto the sofa and straddling his legs. “I still think I did the right thing.”

 

Aaron’s hands settled on Spencer’s thighs, fingers curling into the muscles with slight desperation, feeling Spencer flinch slightly assured him that the other man was alive. “I can’t lose you.”

 

“I know. I do my best to come home to you every time.”

 

“Today you didn’t. You told me about the shared background but there’s something else. How did you talk this kid down? Why were you so sure you’d get through to him?”

 

“You really want to keep talking about this now? I mean, you have me right here.” Spencer wriggled pointedly in Aaron’s lap.

 

“Yes. Tell me. We’ve still got hours until I need to leave. I want to understand.”

 

“The explosion. It was his girlfriend’s abusive father. He did it for love. I think he could have borne his own father’s abuses but not what happened to his girlfriend. Wronging his own injustices always came second. Jordan’s father before his own. The boy who humiliated her before the three that humiliated him. He loved her with everything he was. I told him that he would be abandoning Jordan if he didn’t surrender. I made him see that death was not the best option because he had love to live for. I understood that he did what he did because he loved her. I never understood that motivation before but there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you. I can say this in full confidence,” Spencer gripped Aaron’s chin and forced their eyes to meet, his gaze fierce. “I would shoot a man between the eyes to save your life.”

 

Aaron swallowed heavily. There was no jest or hesitance in Spencer’s expression. Aaron believed him wholeheartedly and what’s more he would trust Spencer to land that shot no matter what Morgan said about Spencer’s poor marksmanship abilities. “Well, I hope it won’t come to that,” Aaron murmured, laying his own hand gently on Spencer’s cheek. “But we should probably book some range time just to make sure.”

 

Spencer smiled, sadly but a smile all the same, “I’ll just aim for his leg and hope for the best.”

 

Aaron chuckled and pulled Spencer into a soft kiss. “I’d do anything for you too.”

 

“I know,” Spencer whispered. “You’re abandoning everything for me.”

 

“Without regret,” Aaron assured him, standing with Spencer clutching to his shoulders, his legs tightening reflexively around his waist. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

“You should not be able to stand with my weight like that. You’re too in shape,” Spencer complained as Aaron carried him in the direction of the bedroom. “I’m not that light.”

 

“I know,” Aaron commented, and unceremoniously dropped the other man onto the bed, where he spluttered indignantly. “I realized that half-way through the move but had to keep going or it would have looked ridiculous.”

 

Spencer laughed, the tension around his eyes that had been there all evening finally fading away but Aaron still felt wound tighter than a coiled spring. It hadn’t exactly been a fight but it had been their first argument. It had also been a long time since Aaron had raised his voice in the way he had tonight. He was no saint, as shown by the fact that he was now unbuttoning his clerical shirt under the watchful gaze of his boyfriend, but he had worked long and hard to master his fiery temper. The rage was only tempered with the cold ice of fear. Even just hearing about Spencer being in danger had his heart racing. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be there seeing it. It was understandable that Morgan sounded near frantic on the phone.

 

“Would you undress?” Aaron asked, as he started on his belt, his voice sounding somewhat strangled.

 

“Sorry, I was enjoying the show,” Spencer teased but his tie was already sliding from his collar as he toed off his socks. Aaron looked away, concentrating on ridding himself of his uniform and becoming just Aaron. He paused, fingers toying with the elastic of his boxers before he took a deep breath and slid them down his thighs. Spencer’s little groan of approval bolstered him and he hoped that one day he wouldn’t feel so nervous about being naked in front of the other man. When he turned, Spencer was lying back on his elbows, cock still flaccid against his thigh but Aaron saw it start to fill when Aaron ran his hands down his stomach. It was a nervous tic, to smooth his shirt, but apparently Spencer found it sexy when he was naked.

 

The bed dipped as he crawled up it, until he was balanced on all fours over Spencer looking down into his wide hazel eyes. “I love you,” Aaron whispered.

 

“I love you, too,” Spencer assured him.

 

Aaron pressed a kiss to his forehead, before trailing butterfly kisses over sharp cheekbones, across a defined jaw, one soft kiss to Spencer’s full lips but he resisted the temptation to stay there, instead he continued down his neck. Spencer had done this to him a few times now, a trail of kisses before he would slide down Aaron’s cock, wet warmth engulfing him. Aaron was sure that he was capable of returning the favour. When he reached Spencer’s nipples, he swirled his tongue and Spencer arched his back in approval. It was tempting to consider biting, Aaron had discovered that he really liked it when Spencer did it, but he wasn’t sure if Spencer would. He didn’t want to do anything wrong so he played it safe and pressed kisses down Spencer’s breastbone and to his stomach. In his mind he saw Spencer’s smooth skin ravaged by the gaping wound of a high-powered rifle and he bit back a sob.

 

“God, Spencer,” Aaron muttered into the hard muscle of Spencer’s belly, burying his face in his skin and breathing deeply. “I was so scared when Morgan called. I thought he was going to tell me that you were – that you were dead.” Spencer’s hand landed in his hair, stroking gently. “I need you so badly right now. That scares me. It scares me how much I need you.”

 

“I’m here for you,” Spencer whispered. “I have no intention of leaving you.”

 

“No, you don’t understand. I want you so badly right now. I want to – I don’t even know.”

 

“Aaron, look at me.” Aaron lifted his eyes, resting his chin on his hands, feeling the hard line of Spencer’s cock nestled between his pectoral muscles. “Anything. I love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Aaron surged back up Spencer’s body, pulling him into a rough kiss, biting at his lips in a way he never had before and Spencer just pulled him closer, short nails digging into the skin of his back leaving ragged red lines of passion and desire and desperation. “You are important,” Aaron gasped and he continued to nibble on Spencer’s jaw, stubble catching on his lips. “To me, you are the most important thing in the whole world.” He licked a line down the tendons of Spencer’s neck and then dug his teeth in, sucking hard. Spencer keened, an unholy animal noise as his grip became vicelike, fingertips of one hand digging into Aaron’s scalp. Aaron pulled back, ready to apologize but Spencer’s hold mashed his nose back against the other man’s neck.

 

“Do it,” Spencer hissed. “Mark me. Let the world know I’m yours.”

 

Aaron groaned and continued to suck and bite at Spencer’s neck and across his collarbones, laving each red mark with his tongue until Spencer was a moaning mess, his cock sliding slickly against Aaron’s stomach. Aaron started to roll his hips, a rhythmic motion in counterpoint to the harsh bites be continued to inflict on Spencer’s chest. Spencer’s fingers dug into his ass, bringing their bodies even closer until every movement was just the right side of painful, the angle sharp, the friction almost too hot and bruising. Aaron thought for a brief moment that he should really be giving Spencer the blow job that he had planned but then Spencer’s back arched, his neck thrown back, an elongated line, and Aaron sunk his teeth in one more time as Spencer came with a howl. It was a noise that Aaron had never heard before and it was so primal, desperate, ecstatic that it sent him over the edge too with a growl he hadn’t realized he was capable of making.

 

Panting heavily, he rolled to his side, pulling Spencer until the younger man was splayed across his chest. Spencer reached down and pulled the crumpled sheets up over them before glancing at his watch and groaning and letting his head fall onto Aaron’s shoulder. “You have work in less than an hour. Do you want to get some sleep?” Spencer asked, leaning on his elbow and petting gently at Aaron’s hair as the other man pressed his fingers against the constellation of bruises forming on Spencer’s chest and neck.

 

“I’ve had three cups of coffee over the past few hours. I’m not sleeping anytime soon. Anyway, it won’t be my first time giving mass without sleep. Although, usually it was just garden variety insomnia that kept me up not, you know, sex.”

 

“Well, I hope that this was a more enjoyable night.”

 

“The sex, yes. The argument and you putting yourself in danger, not so much.”

 

“I know.” Spencer sighed and continued to stroke Aaron’s hair. “Well, I’ve suddenly got a lot of free time on my hands. Pretty much up until the New Year.”

 

“You can help me with my job search,” Aaron suggested. “I’ll hand in my resignation after Epiphany and work out my notice. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to keep yourself busy. You’re always reading or writing something. The time will fly.”

 

“I hope you’re right.” Spencer nuzzled down under the blankets, Aaron wrapping his arms around him and enjoying the warmth and quiet until it was shattered all too soon by the harsh beeping of his alarm.

 

“I better go shower,” Aaron grumbled.

 

“I’ll get up too. Come to mass with you,” Spencer mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

“You don’t need to do that.”

 

“I want to. I think after these past few days I could use a cheery Christmas sermon.”

 

“Wow, I better re-write the hell and damnation; fire and brimstone speech,” Aaron smirked.

 

Spencer looked at him in shock, “You weren’t really going to go with that on Christmas Eve-Eve were you?”

 

“No, of course not.” Aaron chuckled. “I’m talking about the role of the innkeepers and their importance in fulfilling the prophecy, doing God’s work unintentionally, and bringing it back to the whole ‘he without sin cast the first stone’ stuff. I use a better word than stuff.”

 

“I’m sure you do. Well, we’d better get ready. Can’t have the priest late for mass. And I have to see this nativity you texted me about. Baby Jesus sounds terrifying.” Aaron rolled out a bed with a groan, his stomach tacky with dried cum and the familiar guilt at that starting to gnaw at his heart until Spencer stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When Aaron looked back, his partner was looking up at him with soft eyes, underlined by dark circles, his hair a mess of tangles and the pale purple sheets pooled around his waist. “Thank you for being here, Aaron, for listening and for caring.”

 

“Always, Spencer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick personal note, I intend to keep to the chapter-a-week update schedule but in less than two weeks I'm moving back to the UK after several years abroad so everything is a bit chaotic and things might get delayed.


	15. The Night before Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for waiting for this chapter. Honestly, taking this break makes me feel a little less guilty about posting a Christmas chapter. At least it's mid-November now!

Spencer was moping around his flat. There was no other word for it but he was really really mind numbingly, soul destroyingly bored. Books were laid open over every surface, a half-eaten bag of chips had its contents scattered across the coffee table in deference to the fact that he should probably eat at some point during the day, and, in a fit of Christmas cheer, there was tinsel strung across the mantel piece and lights half hung across one of the windows. They flashed in an irritating pattern of gaudy pinks, blues, greens, and reds in the corner of his eye and threatened to bring on a migraine. He sighed, throwing himself onto the couch and shifting about until his head was hanging upside down over the arm and he could no longer see the stupid Christmas lights. Being suspended sucked. Dating a priest at Christmas sucked. Being able to read 20,000 words a minute sucked when he had read everything in his house and the stores were too packed with manic shoppers to make it worth a trip out.

 

He sighed again and then sighed at all his sighing. It was pathetic but boredom was a side-effect of having such a high IQ and part of the reason why he had so many degrees and projects on all at the same time. If he had known he was going to have two serial killer free weeks, he would have signed up for something or committed to a project but the suspension had been an unpleasant and, in his opinion, unjustified surprise so he had nothing and no one was starting anything just a couple of days before Christmas when all the universities were closed and people wanted to be with their loved ones. He wanted to be with his loved one but apparently priests and movie ushers were the only people who didn’t get Christmas day off and that sucked.

 

Spencer was just gearing up to sigh again when his phone rang and he nearly toppled off the couch from a combination of a head rush and his haste to answer in the hopes that it might be Aaron. A glance at the screen told him that it wasn’t. It was Emily but that was pretty good too.

 

“Hey, Em.”

 

“Hi, Spencer, Merry Christmas. How’s the suspension going?”

 

“Awesome. I’m bored out of my mind.”

 

“Aww, poor thing. Isn’t Aaron keeping you amused?”

 

“No. Apparently Jesus’ birthday is kind of a busy time for a priest. He’s always at the church. He won’t even finish until after one tonight. Midnight mass or something like that.”

 

“Midnight mass is very pretty. You should go.”

 

“I am. It’s just not the same. When he’s there, he’s Father Hotchner. It’s not Aaron.” Spencer cringed at the whine in his tone but Emily, thankfully, didn’t call him on it.

 

“I’m really looking forward to meeting him.”

 

“I’ll think you’ll get along well.”

 

“So, what did you get him for Christmas in the end?”

 

“Slippers.”

 

“You got him slippers?”

 

“Yeah. I told him I was going to get him slippers ages ago. He gets really cold feet.”

 

“That is an incredibly dull present.”

 

“It’s a practical present. He’s a practical person. He’ll love it.”

 

“Please tell me you got him something else as well and you’re just not telling me what it is.”

 

“I got him something else as well and I’m just not telling you what it is.”

 

“Oh! Is it something kinky? What is it?”

 

“What part of not telling you are you not getting?”

 

“Come on, Spencer, my love life is lived vicariously through yours.”

 

“That is the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

“Give me a break.”

 

“Come, Em, you’re a very attractive woman. I mean, if I was into women, I’d like you. Actually, I probably would. You kind of look like a female Aaron. The black hair. Tall. Sharp nose. I should stop talking. I’m freaking myself out now.”

 

“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about finding him attractive. I’m not that narcissistic. Oh damn, I’ve got to go. It’s time for that age old Prentiss family tradition of passive aggressively getting drunk while Mother tries to set me up with eligible bachelor number four. We’re still on for the twenty sixth, right?”

 

“Of course. It’s just you, me, Aaron, and Father Rossi.”

 

“I’m looking forward to it, Spencer.”

 

“Me too. Have a good night.”

 

“I’m going to embarrass my mother. That never gets old.” Emily’s giggle was terrifyingly gleeful and Spencer spent a moment staring at his phone after she hung up. Huh. He hadn’t known Emily could giggle. He hadn’t needed to know that either. A glance at his watch told him that he still had a couple of hours to go before he needed to dress for church. Really, he didn’t feel like going but he didn’t want to disappoint Aaron. Anyway, it would be the last Christmas service that Aaron would ever give. He should be there supporting him, in silence, in secret, at the back. He loved his partner but he’d be happy when they no longer had to sneak around.

 

Eleven thirty that night found him slipping into the church, inconspicuously taking a place at the back. The church was packed with people, more than he had ever seen, each carrying a lit candle. The whole church was illuminated up by candle light that flickered warmly. Spencer scanned the crowd, picking out a couple of familiar faces, an older woman who was always in the front row, that nervous looking young man from his first visit to the church, but mostly it was strangers, families with children who chattered excitedly about Santa Claus. Aaron and Father Rossi stepped to the front and Aaron took his place to lead his last Midnight Mass. Even with that knowledge, that must be weighing heavily on him, his eyes met with Spencer’s and he smiled with such warmth that Spencer was sure that the whole church would be suddenly be aware of their love but no one said anything apart from Aaron who thanked everyone coming and started to lead them in prayer. As the service went on, Spencer looked at the beautifully decorated church with its huge Christmas tree. The nativity scene was just off to his right and he had to stifle a laugh when he caught sight of the mannequin who had been literally roped into playing the Angel Gabriel (he was suspended from a hook in the ceiling by a thick rope that was poorly disguised as a belt). Honestly, that angel’s face was giving the expression holy rapture a whole new bad porn meaning. He wanted to look into the crib to see the baby Jesus that Aaron had admitted was a monstrosity but trampling across the manger was probably frowned upon. He’d just take Aaron’s word for it. By the time the service was finished, Spencer was feeling pretty full of goodwill to all men and he even shook hands with the few people who stopped to wish him a Merry Christmas. With one last glance at Aaron, who was surrounded by people talking to him, Spencer stepped out into the snowy night. Yes, it sucked that he wouldn’t see Aaron until their dinner tomorrow night but he was happy for Aaron to have this time. Pretty soon, they would have the rest of their lives together. As Spencer drove away, he found himself humming ‘God rest ye merry gentlemen’, with a smile that didn’t fade even as he unlocked the door to his empty apartment with its pathetic Christmas decorations.

 

Spencer was just walking to the door to check the lock before bed, his hair still dripping from the shower when he heard someone walking down the hall towards his apartment. At first he tensed, his job making him wary of late night visitors but then he recognized the tread and threw open the door to see Aaron wrapped in his usual down jacket, his hair dusted with snow, and his key raised in one hand.

 

“Hi,” Spencer whispered, not sure if he was imagining all of this but he relatively sure that he wasn’t crazy so this was probably real.

 

“Merry Christmas,” Aaron murmured warmly as stomped the last traces of snow off his boots onto Spencer’s mat. “How did you know it was me?”

 

“I recognized your footsteps,” Spencer admitted as he held the door open, still shocked at the appearance of his partner on his doorstep. “It’s two in the morning. I thought I wasn’t going to see you again until tomorrow. You could have asked me to wait after mass.”

 

“I know. I wasn’t planning this but I wanted to see you and David said I could take his car as long as I was extra careful driving in the snow. He asked that I send a picture of proof that she was fine when I arrived. I have to be back at the church for nine but we have some time. I, um, got you a present. At first I thought I would give it to you before David and your friend come round for dinner but you should get a Christmas present on Christmas Day, not the day after.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer looked at Aaron’s empty hands. His coat didn’t seem to have any unusual bulges but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

 

Aaron grinned at him, stepping into the house and pulling off his gloves. “It’s in your kitchen.”

 

“You hid my present in my kitchen?” Spencer said slightly incredulously. “How did you know I wouldn’t find it?”

 

“The layer of dust on top of the cabinets.” Aaron teased.

 

“Oh, wow. Yeah. People clean the top of the cabinets?”

 

Aaron just shook his head but he was wearing a fond smile. “I do have something to confess, though.”

 

“Isn’t that a bit backwards?” Spencer took Aaron’s coat and hung it on his hook.

 

“Forgive me, Spencer, for I have sinned,” Aaron joked wryly. “It has been several months since my last confession.”

 

“Really?” Spencer looked at him in shock. “Wait, do priests even go to confession? Can’t you just do your Jedi hand wave over yourself.”

 

“No,” Aaron looked at him with amused disbelief. “I confess to David but I haven’t since we started, you know, being sexually active. It would be pointless since I have no intention of stopping sinning.”

 

“I’m glad. Well, not that you think of it as sinning but that you want to keep going.”

 

“I don’t really think of it as sinning,” Aaron admitted as he started walking into Spencer’s kitchen, “which is probably the core of the problem and a sign that I should resign as soon as possible.” Spencer leaned against the doorframe as he watched Aaron pull a chair across and clamber on top of the counter, reaching back to retrieve a beautifully wrapped gift box. “Also, we need to have a serious talk about household chores.”

 

“Not now. Present time.” Spencer was vibrating with excitement. “Oh, I have to get your present first.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Aaron stopped him. “That’s my confession. I was looking for somewhere to hide your present. My first thought was in that space behind your bath. I wasn’t checking up on you. Though, the thought did cross my mind, just so you know.”

 

A tendril of anger curled around Spencer’s heart before he shook it off. Aaron’s concern about a relapse was fully justified by the statistics. Instead, he felt a wave of disappointment. “So you’ve seen your present?” he asked, scuffing the toe of his slippers against the floor.

 

“I didn’t open it!” Aaron said indignantly.

 

“Really?” Spencer just stared at him. “I totally would have opened that box if I knew it was up there.”

 

“But that ruins the surprise.”

 

Spencer waved his hand dismissively. “We all know the cat’s dead. Might as well open the box.”

 

Aaron waved the box, “So you know what’s in here?”

 

“Nope,” Spencer grinned as his fingers twitched towards the present. “So we should get this show on the road.” He skipped off to retrieve Aaron’s presents, the one in the bathroom and the other underneath his substantial sock collection. When he returned, Aaron was sitting on the sofa, squinting at the still blinking lights and the wisps of tinsel.

 

“We should get you some more decorations.”

 

“I don’t need an orgasmic angel, thanks,” Spencer muttered before grinning, “I’ve got you.”

 

“I have no reply to that,” Aaron shook his head but there was a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But I still say you need to decorate a bit more. I’m coming over early to help with dinner so I’ll bring some stuff.”

 

“I don’t need my apartment to look like the window of Macy’s.”

 

“A little tree and some less obnoxious lights won’t do any harm.”

 

“Hey, my lights are not obnoxious,” Spencer protested before admitting, “They do give me a headache.”

 

“I can only imagine. Did you enjoy the mass?”

 

“More than I expected to. It was very pretty with all the singing and candles. Almost made me believe in peace on earth for a moment and then I remembered my job.”

 

“Well, at least it was a moment.”

 

“Can we open the presents now?”

 

Aaron laughed, “You’re so impatient.”

 

“I don’t have a lot of great Christmas memories. This is exciting. I have my very own sexy Santa delivering presents in the middle of the night.”

 

“I think I need a beard to play Santa, and to gain a few pounds.”

 

Spencer looked over at Aaron, trying to imagine him with more than the stubble that seemed to grow miraculously quickly every day. “I think I could like you with a beard.”

 

“Really?” Aaron’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “I’ve wanted to grow one for a while but David has always dissuaded me.”

 

“Go for it. I’ll still love you. Now. Present time.”

 

“Well, first open this one,” Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out a small rectangular package wrapped in deep red paper.

 

“Wow, two presents!”

 

“You got me two,” Aaron gestured at the haphazardly wrapped bundles on the table. Spencer waved him off and ripped open the paper. A cassette tape tumbled into his lap. “I know I should have just uploaded the tracks to a playlist on your phone but when I was in high school I always wanted to make one of these for someone and I saw that you have a tape player.”

 

“You made me a mixtape,” Spencer smiled and carefully lifted the cassette like it was a priceless artefact. On the paper on the back, in Aaron’s neat script, was a track listing. “No one has ever made me a mixtape.”

 

“Well, I get to be your first for something,” Aaron laughed. “Some of the songs on there are kind of joke references to us but the rest make me think of you. I, ah, hope you like it.”

 

“I love it. Really.” Spencer kissed Aaron’s cheek. “Should I put it on now?”

 

“Sure.” Spencer jumped off the sofa and over to his stereo system that he only had because he’d found it at a yard sale years ago. He used the cassette player occasionally when he brought home files to work on. The old interviews for most of them hadn’t been digitized yet and he needed something on which to play them. The sound of a gentle guitar drifted from the speakers accompanied by a whispering male voice. The memory of the track listing indelibly etched into his mind drifted across his vision and identified the voice as Gram Parsons singing ‘A Song for You’. Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” would follow. He’d have to look up the lyrics later, to all of the songs, he knew Aaron would have chosen them carefully. Spencer turned back to him with a small smile, which Aaron returned. “Your turn.”

 

Aaron grinned and reached for the book but Spencer stopped him. “No, open the other one first.”

 

Aaron dutifully reached for the larger parcel that had been a totally nightmare to wrap and consequently was about fifty percent paper, fifty percent tape. Still, Aaron carefully tried to open it without ripping the paper as Spencer bounced his knee impatiently beside him. “Slippers,” Aaron laughed and wiggled his toes in his socks. “I remember you said you were getting me these.”

 

“It’s a selfish present. I’m sick of your freezing toes against my calves.”

 

“Alright,” Aaron smiled and put them on his feet. “Ooh, they’re really fluffy inside.”

 

“I know,” Spencer waved his own foot. “They’re the same as mine, just in black.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome. Can I open my big present now too?”

 

“Of course. Also, this is one that should definitely not be opened in front of others.” Spencer gave him a quizzical look. “Just open it. And never let David see it.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer said slowly, tugging on the ribbon that surrounded the white box. “Beautiful wrapping.”

 

“I wrap all the presents under the tree at the church every year. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

 

Spencer lifted the lid off the box and moved the red tissue paper to the side to reveal the buttons on a non-descript black shirt. A glance at Aaron revealed the other man to be rubbing the back of his neck nervously but Spencer couldn’t see why until he moved more paper and saw the stark white collar. He reached into the box to feel the fabric. It was heavy, not the polyester he had been expecting. Well, he hadn’t expected Aaron to want him to dress as a priest but he’d give it a go, if that was what the other man wanted. However, the label caught his attention. Why would Aaron buy him a size large in a shirt?

 

“Aaron?” he asked, somewhat confused but not wanting to make it seem like he didn’t like the gift. He did, he just didn’t really understand it. “Is this for me to wear?”

 

“No,” Aaron whispered. “It’s for me.”

 

“But, I mean, you’re pretty much wearing this right now,” Spencer pulled the shirt out the box and saw that it was actually much longer than a shirt, more like a cassock and it had a cape part that seemed detachable.

 

“When I resign I won’t technically be allowed to wear my vestments any longer. I mean, I could keep a shirt or two but I would feel wrong wearing it but this – this is a costume. It, um, took me a while to find one that was good quality and looked mostly right but I thought this one was pretty good. I, ah, if you don’t like it we can throw it out. I just,” Aaron took a deep breath, “you said it was one of your fantasies and it’s one of mine as well. I don’t feel right actually acting on it while I’m still a priest and certainly not in the church but in our own bedroom, behind closed doors, I thought it might be fun. If you want.”

 

“I want,” Spencer blurted out.

 

“Oh, well, good. Wait, did you want to dress up?”

 

“Not really,” Spencer admitted. “But I’d try it.”

 

“It’s not something I imagined,” Aaron admitted. Spencer started to lay the garment back in the box but Aaron stopped him with a hand on his wrist. “The website said that there were no pants included.”

 

“Okay,” Spencer said. “It’s just black suit pants, right?”

 

“Well, yes, but I was looking around and I saw something that I sort of liked so I got them as well.” Spencer peeked into the box and saw that there was another black scrap of material in the box. When he reached for them, he realized that they were soft and satiny. His mouth went dry. He’d never told Aaron about what his co-workers had said about male lingerie. How could the other man have known? He lifted them gently, reverently, a glance at Aaron showing his ears to be practically glowing but that could just be from the weird flashing Christmas lights. They were tight fitting boxer briefs with a black satin front, a small white bow on the band, but when Spencer turned them around the back was sheer black lace that would reveal the curve of Aaron’s ass.

 

“Oh Aaron,” Spencer whispered. “I really like these.”

 

“Good,” Aaron whispered back, as Spencer felt a strong arm wrap around his waist. “I still can’t believe I bought them.”

 

“I can’t wait to see you in them. Do these also have to wait until after you retire?”

 

Spencer felt Aaron swallow heavily, where his head was resting on Spencer’s shoulder. “No, just, I wouldn’t wear them to work. I mean, do you want me to do that?”

 

“Not if you don’t want to. And honestly, I’d rather these were just for me.”

 

Okay, good.”

 

“Would you put them on now?”

 

“I haven’t opened my other present.”

 

“You can open it in the bedroom.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron reached for the panties, gently tugging them out of Spencer’s grasp. Spencer stood and watched Aaron stride into the bedroom, his slacks pulling tight on his ass with every step. He still didn’t understand how he had gotten this lucky. Giving Aaron a moment, he gathered up the wrapping paper and carefully folded the priest costume back into its box. He hadn’t been expecting that gift but the promise of future role play was desperately enticing. Now he would be counting the days until Aaron retired, not that he hadn’t been before this. Picking up the book, and estimating that Aaron should be undressed by now, he followed his partner into the bedroom.

 

Aaron was lounging on the bed, clearly feigning his confidence but doing it so well. The tiny boxer briefs were a beautiful black against his pale skin, the muscles of his thighs pulling the material tight as he shifted nervously. Spencer wanted to ask him to turn over so he could see the back but figured Aaron would be more at ease if he wasn’t the only one next to naked in the room. Pulling his T-shirt over his head, earned him a groan of approval. He wondered, for a moment, when Aaron would tire of him, would stop finding him so attractive, but he pushed the thought away. The man he loved was wearing lingerie in his bed on Christmas. Now was not the time for melancholy thoughts. Slipping his pyjama pants off left him totally naked and he was once again thankful that his apartment’s heating was so much better than the place he’d stayed while attending MIT. Frostbite had been a serious concern in winter in Massachusetts.

 

Settling next to Aaron on the bed, he handed him his present. “Last one.”

 

Aaron again opened the paper frustratingly carefully but Spencer bit his tongue. From what Aaron had told him of his childhood, Spencer imagined that gleefully ripping open a present would not have been tolerated. Spencer may not have many memories of happy childhood Christmases but he doubted Aaron did either.

 

“You got me a copy of Song of Songs?” Aaron looked at him quizzically but his hands were gently caressing the soft leather of the cover.

 

“I, ah, I thought that some parts were, uh, kind of, um, fitting for us and how I, you know, feel about you.”

 

“Really,” Aaron slid closer to him until they were touching from shoulder all the way down to their ankles. Spencer hooked one leg over Aaron’s and gently squeezed his thigh. “Which parts?”

 

“You want me to recite them? I mean, that’s basically reading you poetry. I think that’s a little corny.”

 

“Humour me.”

 

“Okay, um, there’s two parts. There’s – “

 

“No, don’t tell me the verses because then I’ll know in advance. Just say them.”

 

“Okay.” Spencer took a deep breath, his fingers toying with Aaron’s. “Upon my bed at night I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but found him not; I called him, but he gave no answer. ‘I will rise now and go about the city, in the streets and in the squares; I will seek him whom my soul loves.’ I sought him, but found him not. The sentinels found me, as they went about in the city. ‘Have you seen him whom my soul loves?’ Scarcely had I passed them, when I found him whom my soul loves. I held him, and would not let him go until I brought him into my mother’s house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me. I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the gazelles or the wild does: do not stir up or awaken love until it is ready!” Spencer paused as Aaron turned his warm gaze on him, unspeaking. “It, um, it reminds me of the night that we met, the night I went out in the storm. I didn’t know what I was looking for but I found it, I found you.”

 

“You did,” Aaron agreed, his expressional unreadable. “What’s the next part?”

 

“O that you were like a brother to me, who nursed at my mother’s breast! If I met you outside, I would kiss you, and no one would despise me. I would lead you and bring you into the house of my mother, and into the chamber of the one who bore me. I would give you spiced wine to drink, the juice of my pomegranates. O that his left hand were under my head, and that his right hand embraced me.” Spencer looked up, catching the heat in Aaron’s eyes before his gaze travelled down the toned muscles of his chest to the satin panties that were barely containing his straining erection. “I almost forgot how much you like my voice,” Spencer murmured, his own voice having dropped an octave. Aaron whimpered and Spencer slid down his body until he was able to breathe hot hair over Aaron’s cock. One finger slid under the tight band around Aaron’s muscular thighs and Aaron trembled. “So beautiful,” Spencer whispered and saw the material start to darken. His tongue darted out to taste the damp fabric, sliding over the smooth surface as he relished Aaron’s gasp. He closed his lips around the satin encased cock and sucked gently, moving his head with the motion of Aaron’s hips. Reaching beneath his partner’s body, he ran his palm over the lace at the back, kneading gently at Aaron’s firm ass. Running his fingers back round to the front, he pulled the panties down just enough to release Aaron’s cock, which was shiny and wet with precum and saliva. He was about to resume the blow job when Aaron cleared his throat, one hand reaching for Spencer’s face.

 

“Do you want to maybe try penetrative sex?” Spencer just stared at Aaron, not entirely sure how to answer that. Yes. God yes. Still, that was a big step and he wanted to make sure why Aaron was suggesting that now.

 

“Do you?”

 

“I, ah, when I bought these I imagined that I was wearing them the first time we, you know, did that. I wasn’t necessarily expecting it to be tonight –“

 

“And it doesn’t have to be,” Spencer quickly assured him.

 

“I know but it’s something I want to do.”

 

“Tomorrow’s an important day at work for you. Are you sure that you’ll be okay standing in front of a packed church knowing that you had your cock up my ass just a few hours ago?”

 

“Oh,” Aaron stared at Spencer, eyes wide and Spencer tried to figure out that he’d said to provoke that reaction. “You want me to be inside you?”

 

Spencer’s mind ground to a halt before whirring into frantic action, images flying across his consciousness of Aaron with his legs in the air, Aaron on his hands and knees, Aaron begging as his legs tightened around Spencer’s waist. “You want to bottom?”

 

“I, ah, well, I want to try both,” Aaron admitted. “I wasn’t sure how to bring up the conversations and what your preferences are.”

 

“I’m pretty versatile but I generally top. It’s more a trust thing.”

 

“Okay. So you want me to, um, bottom?”

 

“No, I trust you. I want to do everything with you. I just don’t know if it’s necessarily something we should do tonight.”

 

“But if we did, what are the logistics?”

 

Spencer looked at Aaron for a long moment before sitting back cross-legged and folding his hands in his lap. Aaron shifted back so he was leaning against the headboard, tucking his cock back into the panties that left little to the imagination. Swallowing, Spencer refocused. “Okay. Well, the one who’s going to bottom should shower, well, intimately. And then needs to be stretched. With fingers. And lube. Lots of lube. Lube is your friend.”

 

“Got it,” Aaron smiled at Spencer. “I have been looking some things up – on David’s laptop.”

 

“Well, that’ll be awkward for him.”

 

“I know how to clear my history,” Aaron protested.

 

“I don’t,” Spencer shrugged. “So then we need to talk about condoms. I’m clean. I get tested regularly since I, uh, used to share needles back when it was really bad. I promise I’m clean so it’s up to you whether you want to use a condom or not.”

 

“I’ve never been tested.”

 

“You’ve never had sex.”

 

“Well, no. So no condom.”

 

“Then it’s just taking it slow and making sure it doesn’t hurt.”

 

“So, should I go shower?” Aaron asked, biting nervously at his lower lip.

 

Spencer looked at him for a moment. He could see the excitement but it was tempered by nerves, shown it the tense muscles of Aaron’s thighs. It wasn’t that he doubted Aaron’s desire, he just worried that now was not the time for Aaron to try receiving. No matter what Spencer did, this was Aaron’s first time. There would be some discomfort tomorrow and Aaron had a long day at work. “I’ve already showered,” Spencer commented, testing the waters, “and I clean myself very thoroughly, even if I don’t do such a good job in my kitchen.”

 

Aaron laughed but his pupils were blown with desire. “So, you’re saying --?”

 

“I’m saying I’d be happy to bottom for you. I trust you. I love you. I want this.”

 

“I love you too.” They smiled at each other for a moment before Spencer broke the spell, reaching for the lube he kept in his bedside table.

 

“So, give me a minute to prep myself.”

 

“Oh, I thought I was meant to do that,” Aaron frowned slightly, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

 

Spencer stopped again, feeling totally off balance this evening. “Oh, well, yes, please. I mean, if you want to. I understand if you’d rather not.”

 

“I want to.” Aaron smiled at him. “Just talk me through it.”

 

“Are you sure you can handle that?” Spencer teased. “I don’t want this ending before it even begins.”

 

Aaron kissed him slowly, pushing him onto his back and settling between Spencer’s legs. “I promise to let you know if it gets too much.” With a pop, he opened the cap on the lube and smeared some across his fingers before trailing them behind Spencer’s balls and tracing the tight pucker of his ass.

 

“One finger first,” Spencer murmured, letting his legs fall open. “You can probably go to two pretty quick, though.”

 

“Do you do this to yourself a lot?” Aaron asked, his voice a deep rumble as the tip of his finger breached Spencer.

 

“Um, yes,” Spencer’s whispered, his body thrumming with the knowledge that this was Aaron inside him.

 

“Do you think about me when you do that?” Aaron asked.

 

“Always,” Spencer moaned as Aaron added a second finger into his willing body, “I – I like your hands.” Spencer stuttered as Aaron shifted position and unintentionally brushed his prostate.

 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

 

“No. That would be my prostate. That was very good. You should do that again. Crook your fingers and – oh – yes. Good. Yes. Like that. Please.” Spencer shifted him hips and made the mistake of glancing down at Aaron. The other man’s intense eyes were fixed on him. His pupils were blown wide, mouth opening as he panted, already getting off on Spencer’s enjoyment. Spencer bit his lip and moaned as Aaron scissored his fingers and stretched him wider. “You can add a third finger.”

 

“Like this,” Aaron pushed another finger in, “does it feel good?”

 

“Yes. Feels really good. Your cock will feel better.”

 

“Should I do that then?”

 

“What? Use your cock? Yes, please. More lube.” Aaron withdrew his fingers and Spencer whimpered at the loss before propping himself up to watch Aaron shimmy out of his panties and spread lube over his rock hard cock. Again Spencer felt his breath catch but for a very different reason. He didn’t quite understand how this was his life. This man in his room. Naked. Very naked. It was like the best dream ever but it was real, confirmed by the way the bed dipped as Aaron clambered back up. Spencer let his legs fall open, inviting Aaron closer.

 

As Aaron braced himself over Spencer, Spencer could feel the shake in the palms that rested next to his hips. Spencer reached down and covered Aaron’s hands with his. Aaron took a deep breath and looked up at Spencer who sat up, his hand reaching out to cup Aaron’s face. “If you want to back out, I won’t think any less of you.”

 

“I don’t want to back out. I just – I’m a little scared. I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You won’t hurt me. I’m prepared.”

 

“You’ll tell me to stop if I do something wrong?”

 

“You won’t,” Aaron opened his mouth to argue but Spencer continued, anticipating Aaron’s worries, “but if you do then I promise I’ll tell you.”

 

“Okay. So I just –“

 

“You know what to do.”

 

Aaron nodded and reached down to grasp his bare cock, Spencer hummed his approval as the head of Aaron’s dick brushed against his opening and Aaron started to push forward, breaching him and filling him in one firm push until Spencer could feel Aaron’s balls nestled against his ass and Aaron was panting down at him, his eyes wide with wonder.

 

Spencer reached up and cradled Aaron’s face. The other man turned his face and pressed a kiss to his palm. “Are you okay?” Spencer whispered.

 

“It’s so hot and tight. Am I hurting you?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“It feels amazing. I want to stay here in you forever but I want to move.”

 

“Move, please. I want to feel you.”

 

Aaron pulled back and thrust in again slowly, clearly analysing the feeling as he felt the drag of Spencer’s passage over his cock. Spencer clenched suddenly and was rewarded with a gasp that faded into a guttural moan as Aaron pushed in again. Spencer lost himself in cataloguing Aaron’s facial expressions, the slight furrow of his brow, the play of the muscles in his forearms. It was fascinating but the slow pace was maddeningly arousing without allowing his pleasure to spiral to the high that he so desperately wanted but he wasn’t going to say anything when Aaron looked lost in pleasure.

 

It was Aaron who spoke, his voice roughened.  “Can I – can I go faster?” he asked, his fingers digging into Spencer’s hips.

 

“Faster. Harder. Yes. Please.” Spencer begged, lifting his legs until Aaron understood and lifted them onto his shoulders, gripping his thighs and quickening his thrusts. The new angle was spectacular and Spencer howled his approval, reaching down to grasp his cock and pumping it in time to Aaron’s thrusts.

 

“I’m going to cum. Spence?” Aaron panted, rivulets of sweat sliding down his forehead as he kept up his frantic, almost brutal pace.

 

“Yes. I’m close. I’m so close.”

 

Aaron doubled his efforts, his eyes screwed shut allowing Spencer to stare as his hand continued to move over his own cock. Aaron whimpered and then made that strangled little noise that Spencer loved before Spencer felt the warm splash of Aaron’s cum. That pushed him over the edge. He hadn’t known if they would ever get to this point but he’d fantasised about it often enough. The reality exceeded every fantasy and his orgasm crashed over him, ripped from his very soul. Aaron followed, falling down onto Spencer, frantically kissing him, fingers tangling in his hair, his cock still twitching inside Spencer as their kisses calmed even as their hearts still hammered. Aaron broke away, pressing kisses to Spencer’s cheekbones as he panted.

 

“Was this my third Christmas present?” Spencer muttered into the damp hair at Aaron’s temple as the other man gasped for breath.

 

Shakily, Aaron pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at Spencer who missed the heavy weight of the other man’s body. He smiled the boyish grin that he so rarely used, the smile that made his eyes glitter. “You mean I could have just done this? I didn’t have to get you anything else?”

 

Spencer pushed at him, half-heartedly and Aaron slumped off to his side, his softening cock slipping from Spencer’s body, making him feel empty but Aaron stretched out an arm and Spencer instantly snuggled into Aaron’s side. “Thank you.”

 

“Thank you. That was amazing.”

 

“Anytime,” Spencer pressed a kiss to Aaron’s bare chest.

 

“Well, a couple more weeks and I’m going to have a lot of free time.”

 

“Hey, who knows when my suspension will actually be lifted? I’ll have to have an interview before I’m reinstated.”

 

“They’ll take you back no matter what you say. I have a feeling that you’re essential to your team.”

 

Spencer didn’t know what to say to that so he just nuzzled at Aaron’s neck, kissing him gently. “What time is it?”

 

Aaron glanced at the clock on Spencer’s bedside table. “It’s after five. I should probably try to catch a couple hours sleep before I head back to the church.”

 

“I’ll go get a cloth and clean us up.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron mumbled, his eyes already closing as he succumbed to his exhaustion. “Merry Christmas, Spencer.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Aaron.” Spencer pressed another kiss to his lips, which quirked in a small smile even as the other man drifted off to sleep. Spencer watched him for a moment before extracting himself, stumbling to the bathroom to fetch a washcloth. When he returned to the bedroom, Aaron was sprawled across the sheets, his arm reaching out for Spencer. Feeling a little creepy, Spencer leaned against the doorframe and watched Aaron sleep for a moment as he thought about how this was the best Christmas ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty settled in the UK now so I'm hoping to return to weekly updates but I won't make that a promise, just in case.


	16. Unforeseen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am apologizing for the delay. This move has been more difficult than I expected. We had to move again (super creepy landlord. No conversation should ever begin with the words 'I was going through your bins...'). So, we didn't have internet for a couple of weeks and then my daughter has been in an out of hospital so I've been super stressed out. 
> 
> Good news is that I'm actually a little bit ahead in the chapters so I have a buffer now if everything keeps going to hell in a handbasket.

“Alright, I think we’re done,” Aaron stood back, hands on his hips and admired the corner of the room that he’d commandeered for his modest Christmas display. Spencer had thrown a minor fit when Aaron had shifted a pile of books from the top of the spindly little table onto the floor but as the time passed and the small tree was decorated with tiny red ribbons and miniature glass baubles, a bright star at the top and nice simple white lights strung around the branches, the younger man had quieted and just sat on the floor watching with wonder.

 

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered and Aaron turned around to see him sitting on the floor, eyes wide as he stared at the little tree and the mantelpiece now tastefully decorated with tinsel in shades of red and gold, a sprig of holly at every corner.

 

Aaron couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “How did you get yourself into that mess?” Spencer’s angelic expression of awe at the Christmas display Aaron had just completed was somewhat marred by the fact that the young man was wrapped in his old Christmas lights like a gaudy scarf. “And why are they still plugged in?”

 

“I was playing with them,” Spencer pouted and tried to extract himself with difficulty until Aaron took pity on him and tugged them over his head before pulling the plug out the wall.

 

“So, do you need help in the kitchen?” Aaron asked once the lights were safely stowed in a cupboard, though he vowed they'd be in the trash by the end of the night. There was no way they were making a reappearance next year. Spencer gave him a discerning look which left Aaron somewhat confused. “What?”

 

“Well, I just realized that we’re going to be living together and I don’t know if you like to cook. I mean, I know you really like to clean so that’s good.”

 

“I’m not your maid.”

 

“True, that would have been an entirely different costume for my Christmas present.”

 

“You have a thing for aprons.”

 

“I have a thing for you,” Spencer shot back and Aaron grinned. “So, do you cook?”

 

“I’m sure I could. I’ve never really seen the point. A lot of the older parishioners give me food and I just sort of get by with making a salad and a sandwich if I’m hungry but it can’t be that hard. Sean wanted to be a chef for a while. I ate at a restaurant that he had a job at, for a short while. He was pretty good.”

 

“Well, I can teach you. I had to start cooking for myself really early. I find it relaxing.” Spencer started walking into the kitchen, still talking. “I’ve always liked the predictability. With my mom, everything was so chaotic but in the kitchen I knew that if I followed these steps in this order then I would get the same outcome every time, more or less. Of course, it’s also fun to experiment.”

 

“So, is tonight’s meal predictable or an experiment?”

 

“Predictable. Carrot and coriander soup. Already done. Then there’s Beef Wellington which is already in the oven. I put it in while you were Martha Stewart-ing my Christmas decorations. I’ll make some vegetables to go with that. And then there’s sticky toffee pudding and ice cream for dessert.”

 

“Sounds great. Also sounds like there’s not much for me to do.”

 

“Here’s a knife. There’s a chopping board. You can start on the potatoes and carrots. Don’t cut off your fingers.”

 

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

 

Spencer hummed and bent over to check the oven. Aaron paused, looking at the way Spencer’s slacks pulled tight over his ass and feeling his blood start to thump in his veins. Spencer gave a little wiggle and then looked over his shoulder with laughter in his eyes. “Like what you see?”

 

Aaron blushed but nodded anyway. “Have you got some kind of sixth sense for when I’m looking at you or something?” he muttered, turning to give the pile of carrots, potatoes, and parsnips his attention.

 

“Nope. I could see you in the glass.” Aaron laughed and started peeling the carrots as Spencer pottered around, testing and tasting, tidying up in the most haphazard manner that made Aaron cringe with the mess he was leaving behind him until suddenly Spencer pressed up against his back, laying his hands on top of Aaron’s.

 

“Need some help?”

 

“I wouldn’t say no,” Aaron answered, swallowing heavily as Spencer plastered himself even closer.

 

“Okay. Well, you’ve done a good job of peeling them. Now we need to start chopping. Hold here with one hand. Bend your fingers. Yes, like that.” Spencer fingers danced across his own, lightly repositioning them and making Aaron’s breath quicken. “Hold the knife comfortably. Then roll it. Fingers close but don’t cut yourself. Move the carrot not the knife. Yes like that.” Spencer’s words were hot against Aaron’s ear but he honestly hadn’t heard a thing. He could feel Spencer’s erection pressing against his ass, a long, hard, hot line that had him desperate to turn around and ask Spencer to do something, anything.

 

“Can we have sex now, please?” Aaron blurted out, dropping the knife onto the cutting board and turning to kiss Spencer who danced out of his reach.

 

“We’re on a tight schedule, Aaron,” Spencer teased, his tone serious but his eyes sparkling. “I don’t think we have time.”

 

“Seriously?” Aaron asked, unable to hide the slight whine in his voice.

 

Spencer looked at his watch and his face fell, “Shit. Seriously. They’ll be here in half an hour. How did you manage to spend that long decorating a Christmas tree?”

 

“It looks pretty,” Aaron defended himself but was now feeling that the time had not been spent as advantageously as it could have been.

 

“Okay, right. I’ll do the rest of the vegetables.”

 

“I’ll do the dishes and clean up. Got an apron?” he asked, mischeviously.

 

Spencer grinned at him. “Oh no. There is no way you are wearing an apron right now. I will not be caught on my knees by Emily and Father Rossi.”

 

“Who knows,” Aaron murmured, rolling up his sleeves. “Maybe I’d be the one on my knees.” Spencer stared at him for a moment, mouth slightly open as Aaron just grinned. Two could play at Spencer’s game and Aaron was a fast learner. “Go on. Those vegetables aren’t going to chop themselves.  

 

Spencer glared at him but, with another look at his watch and a heavy sigh, he got to work and in no time at all, the vegetables were roasting in the oven. “You’re staying the night, right?” Spencer asked quietly as Aaron continued to wash the detritus of Spencer’s culinary genius.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good. I like having you here. I’m looking forward to you being here all the time.”

 

“Me too.” Aaron smiled at him as the buzzer rang.

 

“Hey,” Spencer answered the door to Emily, laden down with wine, whiskey, and a couple of other boxes. “You didn’t need to bring anything.”

 

“I know but I did anyway. It’s fucking freezing.” Emily started handing Spencer everything.

 

“It is pretty cold tonight,” Aaron replied, as he leaned against the living room door, a towel draped over his shoulder and the dishes drying on the rack.

 

“Sorry, Father,” Emily muttered and reddened.

 

“Just Aaron,” Aaron corrected her and held out his hand. “You can all David Father when he arrives, if you want.”

 

“Ah right.” Emily shook his hand and smiled at him.

 

“Can I take your coat?”

 

“I would have offered to do that,” Spencer protested. Emily looked at him and Aaron tried to read their silent exchange that seemed to be mainly communicated through eyebrows. Spencer deflated slightly before adding, “I might’ve remembered to offer.”

 

“Well, at least there’s one gentleman here.”

 

“Two now,” David announced and Aaron smiled at the newcomer over Emily’s shoulder. “Someone was just leaving when I arrived. You know, if a burglar dressed as a priest, he could get into any building.”

 

“I’m sure these FBI agents will pass that along. This is Father Rossi,” Aaron offered with a gesture at his friend who was unwrapping a scarf from his neck.

 

“You must be Emily,” Aaron didn’t even attempt to restrain himself from rolling his eyes as David held out his hand, his eyes sparkling in that flirtatious way he still had despite having devoted himself to God almost four decades ago. Aaron had never mastered that ease with the opposite sex. Well, he supposed it hadn’t ever been relevant and certainly wasn’t going to be any time soon.

 

Emily shook his hand but her face looked caught between a grimace and a smirk. When David had moved forward to greet Spencer, Aaron heard her mutter under her breath: “Wow. The last guy who looked at me like that asked me to call him Daddy.”

 

Apparently David heard her turn as he turned and shot back dead pan: “I prefer Father or David to Daddy.” Emily blushed bright red as Aaron barked out a laugh and Spencer seemed to choke on his tongue.

 

“Oh Jesus. Fuck. No. Sorry, when I get nervous I sort of speak my thoughts out loud and social situations make me super nervous. I really never would have been good in politics.”

 

“I’m terrible at socializing too,” Aaron offered with a shrug.

 

“Really?” Spencer looked over at him. Aaron could read the disbelief clearly on his face. “You never had any trouble talking to me.”

 

“I got to know you professionally first. When I’m not talking to someone as a priest I become a stuttering teenager.” Aaron frowned, “I guess I’ll have to work on that.”

 

“I have plenty of experience with trying not to be the most awkward person in the room. I can help,” Spencer offered enthusiastically.

 

“Well, now that we’ve established that I’m the only one here who can string two words together, can we close the door and move out of the hallway,” David commented dryly. “Something smells delicious. I know that wasn’t Aaron’s doing.”

 

“Hey, I can probably cook.”

 

“It’s the probably that worries me.”

 

“You cook, Spencer?” Emily asked, as she laid her presents at the foot of the little tree.

 

“He’s a great cook.” Aaron answered for him.

 

“Wow. Hidden depths to the boy genius.”

 

“I’m sure Aaron can testify to that,” David muttered as he pulled some more bottles from a bag. “For you, a housewarming and Christmas present in one. I didn’t wrap it but –“ David shrugged and tried to add it to the small pile under the tree but Aaron snatched it up.

 

“Wow, that is a nice bottle, David.” Aaron said, slightly shocked. “We should open it now, Spence.”

 

Emily took a look too and whistled low. “You can’t drink that,” she said, “that’s sacrilege.”

 

“It’s not.” David deadpanned. “Trust us. We’d know. Go on, open it up, kid. There’s a lot to celebrate this year.”

 

Spencer shrugged and grabbed the bottle, giving it a cursory look before going to fetch the new glasses he’d bought especially for this occasion from the kitchen. Aaron knew what he was thinking. To Spencer, alcohol was alcohol. He wouldn’t know an expensive Scotch from the cheapest moonshine but he’d drink it.

 

“So,” Emily sidled up next to him and he realized that he’d probably been watching Spencer’s retreat with a lovesick look on his face. “You’re really good for him.”

 

“Thank you,” Aaron replied, not sure what else he was meant to say.

 

“The kid’s good for him too,” David joined them, having completed scanning Spencer’s bookshelves. “I’ve known Aaron for over a decade and I’ve never seen him smile so much. Not his real smile. It’s good to see.”

 

“He’s brought Spencer out his shell. It’s always been so hard to get close to him.”

 

“It didn’t help that you insinuated I was a robot,” Spencer muttered as he returned from the kitchen with four glasses.

 

“You’ve got to admit that your statistics can sometimes seem a little Data. Combine that with your love from Sherlock Holmes and it’s only fair that I’d come to the conclusion that you are an FBI android.”

 

“You didn’t need to poke me in the face,” Spencer grumbled, his hand reaching to rub at the remembered spot on his cheek. “Well, the soup is ready if you all want to come to the table.”

 

Aaron held back for a moment, watching as the other three settled around the small table that Spencer had moved into the lounge, shoving the sofa back against the bookshelves. A year ago, he had been settling down to Chinese food with David, both of them content and chattering about the services the day before and the upcoming Epiphany. He never could have imagined that, just one year later, he would be sitting down to a home-cooked meal with friends in his partner's home but he felt suddenly almost painfully happy. Spencer looked up, one eyebrow raised in question and Aaron stepped towards him, clasping his hand for a moment and trying to convey what he was feeling through their palms.

 

“Yes, yes, we get it. You are hopelessly, deliriously in love,” David grumbled. “Let’s eat.” Still, when Aaron looked up both David and Emily were smiling warmly at them.

 

The soup had been cleared and they were just sitting down to the main course when suddenly there was a brief knock at the door before a key turned in the lock. Spencer looked up with a slightly confused expression that had Emily reaching under the table to produce a gun that she apparently had strapped around her ankle. Aaron couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that but then a voice called out and Spencer broke into a broad grin.

 

“Ethan!” Spencer pushed his chair back from the table and placed his napkin next to his plate. Ethan, Aaron remembered the name, Spencer’s friend who had helped him through withdrawal. A glance at Emily’s face suggested that she too knew Ethan’s role in Spencer’s life.

 

A young man with a shaggy beard and dark hair that fell into his eyes appeared in the doorway. His eyes lit up and a lazy grin spread across his face as he saw the group gathered around the table. “Spencer! You’ve got friends! How much are you paying them?”

 

“Screw you,” Spencer muttered good-naturedly and bounced to the door to be pulled into a hug from his friend. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Gig in New York tomorrow. I thought I’d stop here on the drive up. See how you’re doing. Maybe meet Aaron.” His eyes landed unerringly on Aaron who stiffened under the scrutiny. Ethan may have cultivated the appearance of a scruffy musician but the spark of intelligence in those eyes told Aaron that the young man was far more than he appeared to be. Before Aaron could react, those eyes had moved on to Emily and Ethan gave her a small smile that had the woman shifting slightly in her seat as her hand reached up to move her hair behind one ear. “So, got a plate for a poor starving musician?”

 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I bet you make more than I do but yes. Grab a seat. Go on. There’s probably a bit more room if you sit next to Emily.”

 

“Merry Christmas to me,” Ethan grinned as he pulled over Spencer’s armchair for a make-shift fifth place at the table. “Hi, everyone, I’m Ethan. Spencer and I have been friends since we were kids.”

 

“Emily,” Emily offered her hand and a big grin. “Spencer and I work together.”

 

“Need some stories for blackmail material?” Ethan teased as Spencer returned with another plate and a frown.

 

“Yes, please,” Emily laughed.

 

“I hate you so much,” Spencer muttered. “So, you’ve figured out this is Aaron. He does not want to hear stories.”

 

“I do!” Aaron protested with a dimpled grin.

 

“And this is Father Rossi,” Spencer gestured to David who smiled easily at Ethan as the young man straightened in his seat.

 

“Ah, well, there’s a lot more priests in this room than I’m used to,” Ethan admitted.

 

“They are the weirdest priests ever,” Emily assured him in a stage whisper that had Aaron and David smiling.

 

“So, what kind of music do you play?” Aaron asked.

 

“Aaron loves music,” Spencer told Ethan as the other man filled his plate. “He has an entire wall of records.”

 

“Great,” Ethan smiled. “I hope you’ll start teaching this one something. I’ve never been able to get him interested.”

 

“I can name Beatles' songs now,” Spencer smiled proudly.

 

“It’s a start,” Aaron smiled back.

 

“A good one. I play blues,” Ethan finally answered as he started to eat.

 

“Ethan sold his soul to a crossroads demon,” Spencer supplied.

 

“Yup, got the package deal: looks, talent, and intelligence. 188, Spencer.”

 

“It means nothing,” Spencer stuffed some more potatoes into his mouth.

 

“I88?” Emily asked with interest that Aaron noticed was more directed at Ethan himself than what he was saying.

 

“I beat Spencer by one point on an IQ test.”

 

“Intelligence cannot be quantified. An IQ score is meaningless.” Spencer spoke around the food in his mouth until David reprimanded him with a glare. “Sorry.”

 

“You know, it’s funny, but you only started saying that after I beat you.” Spencer just muttered something under his breath and took another sip of whiskey.

 

“You know, I just happen to have some pictures of a teenaged Spencer with me, you know, if anyone’s interested.”

 

Spencer’s protests were drowned out by the chorus of yes and Ethan went to his bag, pulling out a small picture album that was battered and beaten, clearly it had been carried about on the road as Ethan travelled. Aaron shifted to stand behind Ethan’s chair to see better and there was his Spencer, still skinny but a lot shorter. Glasses that would have been horribly unfashionable then were perched on his nose but he was grinning at the camera, a younger Ethan standing next to him with an arm looped around his shoulder. There were holding a small cup, one handle in each hand and below the picture was a messy scrawl: First Place Stanford Math Olympics.

 

“You were adorable, Spencer,” Emily cooed. “But you were so little.”

 

“Yeah, I thought this asshole was going to be short and then he turns twenty and suddenly he’s a foot taller than me,” Ethan grumbled. “And he looks like a model.”

 

“Alright,” Spencer stood, clearly blushing. “Who wants dessert?”

 

“Me!” was the resounding answer and Aaron helped Spencer move all the plates into the kitchen where he grabbed Spencer by the belt loops and pressed a light kiss to his lips.

 

“You really were adorable,” Aaron murmured.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer swatted at him but Aaron refused to let go and eventually Spencer relaxed into the embrace.

 

“And you could be a model now.”

 

“I think I’m okay with the FBI. Hey, have you got any photos of you as a kid? You were probably handsome even then.”

 

“Try gawky and awkward but, yeah, I think I’ve got a few somewhere.”

 

“I demand to see them.”

 

“Really?” Aaron arched an eyebrow. “Well, I demand compensation for the emotional trauma of you seeing me as a dorky altar boy.”

 

“I think that can be arranged.”

 

“Less kissing; more cake,” David shouted through as Emily and Ethan laughed.

 

“Alright,” Aaron shouted back and let Spencer go with one final little kiss. They brought through the dessert, and conversation flowed as easily as the alcohol. Aaron kept finding himself pausing, looking around the table and the happy faces, the way David’s eyes were crinkling with amusement, the way Ethan and Emily were orbiting ever closer to one another, the way he would catch Spencer looking at him as if he hung the moon. David was right, Aaron raised his glass to his lips again with a smile, there was a lot to celebrate this year.

 

“Well, I better get going,” David sighed, standing from the chair. Aaron glanced at his watch and saw that it was a lot later than he had thought. “I’ll see you in the morning?” he asked Aaron who nodded. “It was nice to meet you, Emily, Ethan.”

 

The other two seemed to take that as their cue and soon everyone was bundled into coats at the door saying their goodbyes. Finally, only Ethan was left. His guitar slung over one shoulder and a holdall at his feet.

 

“I like you,” Ethan smiled and pulled Aaron into a one-armed hug. “I’ve for a feeling you’ll be good for him. See, I’m not even mad that I can’t sleep here tonight.”

 

“You’re going home with Emily,” Spencer grumbled, leaning heavily on Aaron as they stood at the door seeing their last guest out.

 

“And here I thought we were being subtle in front of the priests,” Ethan sighed exaggeratedly. “See you soon, Spencer.”

 

“Yeah, I’m glad you came.” Ethan tugged Spencer into another hug before letting him go and bounding towards the stairs singing loudly. The sound of Emily giggling resounding up the stairs before Spencer pulled Aaron back into the apartment and closed the door.

 

“Well, that went better than I ever expected,” Spencer grinned as he slumped against the door. “Is it terrible that I’m glad they're gone?”

 

“I guess we’re both terrible people, then.” Aaron moved in closer to Spencer, shoving a thigh in between his legs so that their bodies were plastered together. Spencer’s breath washed over him bringing the warm fragrance of the expensive whiskey David had brought as a gift that had magically disappeared over the course of the evening.

 

“You’re not a terrible person,” Spencer smiled crookedly at him. “God loves you lots and lots. I love you lots and lots too but I’m not God. I’m not, you know –“

 

“The creator of everything?”

 

“Yeah, not omnipotent.”

 

“Good to know.”

 

Spencer squinted at Aaron, tipping his head to one side as his hands grasped at Aaron’s hips and made him shiver. “I feel like you’re not as drunk as I am.”

 

“Probably not. I think I have a higher tolerance than you.” Aaron nuzzled behind Spencer’s ear and began pressing kisses down the tendons of this neck.

 

“You must drink a lot of wine. You know it’s a bit creepy that you tell people to drink blood all the time. Are you a vampire? You look like a vampire with the pale skin and the dark hair. You’d make a good vampire. Are you going to bite me?” Aaron looked up into Spencer’s eyes which were bright with amusement.

 

“I just might,” Aaron grinned, licking his lips and drawing a little whimper from the man he was still pressing against the door. “Come to bed.”

 

“Too far.” Spencer muttered and Aaron was just beginning to try to figure out how that request had been out of Spencer’s comfort zone when he was shoved up against the corridor wall, Spencer crowding up against him and bringing their groins into contact with a thrust of his hips. “I want you now. Here.”

 

“We’re in your hallway.”

 

“Our hallway. This is your apartment too.” Spencer was making short work of the fly of Aaron’s jeans, his fingers skimming against the taut muscles of his stomach and already Aaron’s breath was quickening.

 

“But – but --- Spencer –“ Aaron’s protest was cut off with a moan as Spencer shoved his hand into his boxer shorts and wrapped his fingers around his cock. The moment was too short though as Spencer pulled back, cursing the wrong angle. Aaron couldn’t see anything wrong with what had just happened apart from the fact that it had stopped and maybe that they were vertical instead of horizontal and he was about to suggest moving to the bed again when Spencer pushed his boxers and jeans down to his knees.

 

“Spread your legs a bit,” Spencer commanded as he worked his own slacks and boxers off, kicking them away when they tangled around his feet. Aaron did as he was told but his legs were trapped by the denim so he didn’t get very far. “Perfect,” Spencer practically purred before he kissed Aaron forcefully, all tongue and teeth. It was harsh and demanding. It was pure dominance and it made Aaron painfully hard until he was thrusting into the space between their bodies helplessly.

 

“Please,” he gasped, not even sure what he wanted.

 

“Lick my palm.” Spencer held his hand in front of Aaron’s face.

 

“What?”

 

“Trust me,” Spencer murmured and kissed Aaron again. Softer this time, pulling back when Aaron moaned. He held up his palm and Aaron licked carefully across the skin once, feeling self-conscious. “More. Make it wet.” Spencer’s breath was hot in his ear as he licked the shell before sucking on Aaron’s earlobe. Aaron gave in, licking wetly across the surface. He remembered that time in the shower when Spencer had sucked on his finger, how good it had felt, and he drew two of Spencer’s fingers into his mouth, slurping on them and thinking that one day he would do that to Spencer’s cock.

 

Spencer groaned, his whole body shuddering before he pulled his hand away and reached down to wrap his fingers around their cocks. This was familiar. This was wonderful. But there was something new about doing it while Spencer had him pressed against a wall, his fingers digging into his hips, promising to hold him up if his knees buckled. Their breath was hot and fast, Aaron’s hips rolling into every movement, begging for more. When Spencer moved the hand from his hip, he nearly did slip down but he caught himself, grasping at Spencer’s shoulders. Two fingers were pressing against his lips again and he stared into Spencer’s blown pupils as he eagerly sucked on them again feeling wanton and desperate.

 

Aaron followed them hungrily when Spencer pulled his fingers away but the younger man soothed the loss with a kiss as he continued to palm work their cocks together. “You can tell me to stop at any time,” Spencer murmured in between kisses and all Aaron could think was: why would we stop? Why on earth would I ever want this to stop? But then Spencer’s wet fingers were trailing over his balls, moving further backwards. Instinctively, Aaron tried to spread his legs further but the denim was already digging into his flesh. “You want this.” Spencer purred and, even though it wasn’t a question, Aaron nodded enthusiastically. Spencer’s fingertip traced Aaron’s hole and Aaron couldn’t stop the slight flinch even as his breathing picked up from both his nervousness and his excitement. This was new. This was something he had never done to himself. Spencer pressed down, just pressure against Aaron’s opening but it made him moan, made him tighten his grip until his nails were digging in to Spencer’s shoulders.

 

“Please,” he managed to gasp out and Spencer tightened his grip, twisting slightly as his finger breached Aaron’s tight pucker and that was it. He was gone, his body shaking with a sudden, intense orgasm that was wrenched from his very soul. When he came down, he saw Spencer chuckling slightly and felt both his hands holding firmly onto Aaron’s waist.

 

“Wow,” Spencer grinned as he kissed across Aaron’s cheekbones. “Just wait until I stimulate your prostate.”

 

Aaron sighed happily, feeling boneless and sated until he realized Spencer was still hard, his cock pressing against Aaron’s stomach. Pushing Spencer back, he slid to his knees and took him in his hand, looking up at the other man who still seemed to be processing their sudden change in positions. “If I do it wrong, tell me,” Aaron muttered before wrapping his lips around the swollen head and tentatively running his tongue over the slit. It tasted bitter and somewhat unpleasant but the gasp of pleasure from Spencer more than made up for that. Nervously, he tried to take more into his mouth but all too soon it was too much and he gagged, his stomach heaving slightly.

 

Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “You can stop but if you want to continue, try licking it like an ice cream. Use your hands. Suck on the head. You don’t have to deep throat me. You don’t have to do any of this.”

 

Aaron didn’t reply, instead he did as suggested, licking up the vein, wrapping his hand around the base, tasting the salty precum that oozed from Spencer slit and thinking that it wasn’t as bad as he had thought at first, sucking gently made Spencer’s fingers curl and tighten in his hair so he kept that up, stimulating the rest with his hand until Spencer was pulling at his hair, the other hand pushing at his shoulder until he pulled off. “I’m close. I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

 

Aaron kept moving his hand. “No. I know. You want to come on my face.” Spencer groaned, his hips hitching with little aborted thrusts. “You can. I don’t mind.”

 

“God,” Spencer groaned.

 

“Don’t blaspheme,” Aaron corrected as Spencer’s cock swelled in his hand and a spurt of semen landed on his cheek. Spencer kept coming in little splashes over Aaron’s cheeks and lips until he was dry and he crumpled onto the floor next to his partner.

 

“I love you so much,” Spencer murmured, pulling Aaron into a kiss until they were lying on the hall floor, both covered in cum and dust because, really, Spencer needed to learn to clean more effectively.

 

“I love you too,” Aaron whispered back and they grinned at each other. “Shower with me.”

 

“I want to sleep,” Spencer protested, stretching his arms over his head and looking like he was about to settle down for the night.

 

“I’ll admit that I’ve learned that the hallway is a wonderful place for sexual activity but I’m too old to be sleeping on a wooden floor.”

 

“Okay, okay. Shower then bed. You win.”

 

*****

 

Aaron groaned as Spencer’s phone buzzed angrily from the bedside table. A glance at the clock showed that it was a little after three in the morning. “Your phone,” he muttered, shoving it in the general direction of Spencer’s face.

 

Spencer released a string of inventive curses before sighing and answering with a weary hello. Again, Aaron watched as Spencer’s brain came on-line in response to whatever the caller was saying. It must have been serious as before the end of the call, Spencer was already sitting up, his eyes scanning the room for clothes in the dim light of the nightlight he kept on all night. Aaron also sat up, his stomach clenching nervously as he was gripped with a strange foreboding. Spencer hung up and turned to him with a heavy sigh.

 

“I’ve got to go in to work.”

 

“You’re no longer suspended?”

 

“Someone did something worse than what I did to get suspended.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“Nowhere. It’s here in DC. The politicians always get nervous when there’s a serial killer on close to home.”

 

“That seems logical.”

 

Spencer raised an eyebrow at him and snorted. “They’re worried their dirty laundry will get an airing. It’s about saving reputations not lives when there’s murder in the capitol. This was the fourth working girl to be killed but we’re only called in now because she worked a patch near Capitol Hill.”

 

“Someone is killing prostitutes?” Aaron asked, his stomach clenching.

 

Spencer didn’t pick up on the worry in Aaron’s voice, his back to the other man as he buttoned his shirt. “He’s slitting their throats.”

 

Aaron froze but said nothing. Spencer continued to dress in silence before he leaned over the bed to kiss Aaron goodbye. “Are you okay to get in to work? I have to be in asap.”

 

“Of course, I’m fine.”

 

“Go back to sleep.”

 

“I will. Stay safe, Spence, please.” Something in his voice must have given away his discomfort as Spencer turned back when he was halfway out the door to look at him. He forced a small smile that fell as soon as the door was once again shut. He needed to get to the church.


	17. Forgive Me

Spencer drove on the already somewhat unfamiliar streets to work. It was funny how strange the commute felt after a few days of forced vacation. Although, that could also be due to the lack of traffic on the early morning streets. He was nervous about returning to work especially when his status as an agent was still up in the air but it was something in Aaron’s tone of voice that was bothering him. Sure, it could just have been the confusion of an early wake up after little sleep but it seemed like there was something more, something that was especially worrying Aaron about this case. It was ridiculous. It was the first time Spencer had heard of the murders so there was no way that Aaron could know any more than him. Still, it niggled at him as he drove through the near empty streets and pulled into the quiet parking garage at Quantico.  

 

When he slumped into the conference room, after a quick detour for coffee in the break room, he was greeted by an effusive embrace by Penelope Garcia. “My Baby Feeb! I have missed you so much! Did you have a Merry Christmas? You look like you had a Merry Christmas!”

 

“Um, yeah, I had a good Christmas, thanks Garcia. Hey, JJ!” Spencer greeted the other woman in the room, extracting himself from Garcia’s arms in search of oxygen.

 

“Hey, Spence! It’s really good to see you.”

 

“You too,” JJ bit her lip and moved closer to Spencer as Garcia leaped from her seat again to greet Morgan. “Actually, I have some news for you. Not now but once the case is over.”

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

JJ smiled a shy smile that lit up her eyes, “Yeah, you know I think it will be.”

 

“Okay. Good.” Spencer’s mind whirred, trying to solve the riddle behind JJ’s words but he just didn’t have anything to go on at all so he let it drop as he dropped into a seat next to Morgan who’s head was down on the table. He acknowledged Spencer’s presence with a grunt before closing his eyes again as Emily stumbled in, clinging to a steaming mug of coffee as if it was her only life-line in this world.

 

“Did you even go to bed at all?” Spencer teased her and JJ laughed as she continued to distribute the information they had on the case, a sadly thin packet for each member of the team but it always was that way when the victims were considered to live high risk lives.

 

Emily stuck out her tongue before her grin turned devious, “You want me to give you details about sex with Ethan?”

 

“No,” Spencer frantically waved his hands. “He’s like a brother to me. God, no.”

 

“I want the details,” Garcia happily chimed in until her face fell as Max Ryan strode through the door. “Later, though.”

 

“Good. You’re all here.” Morgan’s head shot up and Ryan nodded to the room at large before his eyes settled on Reid, narrowing slightly. “Dr. Reid, your reinstatement is temporary at the moment and your conduct on this case will greatly influence my decision.”

 

Great way to motivate the troops, Spencer thought to himself, shuffling the papers in front of him around on the desk but he only offered Ryan a curt nod. The rest of the team offered him encouraging smiles as Ryan nodded at JJ to start the briefing. A spree killer loose in the city, preying on high risk victims. The pressure was on to stop the unsub as quickly as possible and before the public started to panic. So far, it had been kept out the papers but some journalist was sure to get a hold of the story soon. Ryan sent everyone to their tasks, setting Spencer the rather banal task of sorting out the timeline based on the sparse information they had for the victims’ movements. Spencer refrained from pointing out that Garcia had already done this on her computers since Ryan held computers in almost as high disdain as he currently held his resident genius.

 

Within a short time, Spencer had finished plotting the timeline out on the whiteboard, having already read through every interview and witness statement, and was thinking about turning to his maps when he sensed a presence hovering in the room. “Any progress, Dr. Reid?” Ryan asked, looming over Spencer’s shoulder.

 

“Um, well, I feel that I should be making a geographic profile. I think that would –“ Spencer trailed off as Ryan just glared at him. “Well, um, all I can tell you from the timeline is that he’s getting impatient.” Spencer bit his lip nervously. “There’ll probably be another one soon.”

 

“No point in getting ahead of ourselves,” Ryan answered sharply.

 

“No, sir.”

 

“I want you to go out to the first crime scene with Morgan. Take a look. They always mess up on the first one.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Spencer gathered up his things and set out to find Morgan who was bent over the phone at his desk, trying to find someone who knew these women and who would be willing to talk about their lives, someone who might have been with them shortly before they were killed. As he hung up, Spencer threw him his coat.

 

“We off somewhere?” Morgan asked, already shoving his arms into the sleeves. It was a black down jacket that reminded Spencer of the one Aaron wore.

 

“Ryan wants us to go look at the first crime scene again.”

 

“He knows that the snow has melted, right?”

 

“There’s no way I’m bringing that up. He’ll suspend me again,” Spencer muttered under his breath as he looped his scarf around his neck and they headed down to sign out a Bureau SUV.

 

As they drove out, Spencer pulled out his maps and his markers to begin marking points. Ryan might not want him to make a geographic profile because he was an ignoramus who didn’t have any understanding of advances in profiling but it wasn’t going to stop him. It was painful to watch Ryan talk down to Garcia. Spencer might not understand the magic that Garcia weaved with her web but he respected what she did. Ryan did not. In Spencer’s opinion, that made him an idiot but he knew he’d lose his job if he ever voiced that thought. So, here they were trekking out to a crime scene that had been released already and probably trampled over by dozens of people, the snow melted, the trash bins emptied. Spencer couldn’t imagine that they would find anything useful but he knew that if he could just plot the points then he would see a pattern.

 

Late afternoon found Spencer crouching down in an alleyway around the corner from the Church of Our Lady of the Annunciation. Crime scenes pictures in one hand, a map in the other, he tried to find some rhyme or reason in the places where the bodies had been found. It was extremely discomfiting but, apart from the body near Capitol Hill, the unsub seemed to be spiralling around Aaron’s church. The fourth body seemed to be an enraged cry for attention: a higher end prostitute in a better neighbourhood in an attempt to finally get some recognition for his work. Again, the nervous note in Aaron’s voice this morning played in his ear and Spencer decided that he couldn’t ignore his gut anymore. He needed to talk to Aaron and find out what the other man was hiding and exactly why he would be sheltering a killer if that was what he was doing. He couldn’t believe that Aaron would do that. The other man believed too much in Good. The capital G resounded in Spencer’s thoughts as he turned to Morgan: “I’m going to stop in to see Aaron.”

 

“A social call now, Reid?” Morgan looked at him with mixed looks of disbelief and curiosity and Spencer realized just how well Morgan knew him. His friend had already realized that Spencer had a hunch.

 

“The dots are circling around the church. I just get the feeling that Aaron might know something or he might recognize someone from the community if I give him the profile.”

 

“Hmm,” Morgan offered noncommittally. “I’m going to knock on a few doors though you know how it is here: see no evil, hear no evil, tell the cops nothing.”

 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders but nodded his agreement and walked out the alleyway and briskly down the street in the direction of the church. The snow had melted leaving a dirty slush in the gutters and a chill wind blew his coat open until he pulled it firmly around his thin frame. Even after all these years outside of Vegas, he still hated the cold winters and the beauty of the snow was always marred by the filthy mess that was left behind. It was a bitch for crime scenes as well. So much evidence could be lost in the thaw.

 

Spencer paused for a moment outside the wooden doors, marshalling his thoughts and trying to decide what tact to take to get Aaron to open up to him, well aware that it could all go out the window depending on what Aaron said. He had no idea how his personal relationship would affect this interview and he knew that he probably wasn’t the ideal person to be having this discussion but he didn’t have enough to go on to justify bringing in someone else from the team. Especially not with the way Ryan had been scrutinizing him so far. He just knew that the older agent would not be impressed with Spencer bringing hunches and strange feelings to him. No, best to deal with the quietly and if it was nothing then he could go back to the drawing board and figure out a new angle.

 

With that thought, Spencer pushed open the door. “Hi, Aaron,” Spencer murmured as he slouched into the church, grateful for the warmth of the now familiar building, and saw his partner busy tidying in the entrance. The older man jumped slightly, fumbling the candlestick that he’d been polishing before he recovered, placing it carefully back onto the table. Spencer narrowed his eyes. He’d never seen Aaron nervous like this.

 

“Spencer. Is the case wrapped up?”

 

“No, but I was in the area and was hoping I could talk to you.” Aaron stepped closer to him with a small smile but Spencer stopped him with a raised hand. “Professionally not personally.”

 

“Okay,” Aaron assented but his eyes darted to the sides and his hands clenched briefly at his sides.

 

“I was hoping to give you a profile of our killer and for you to tell me if you recognize it as anyone in the community.”

 

“I guess I could try,” Aaron offered.

 

“He’s young. Probably in his early twenties at the most. A loner but he appears non-threatening. Some of the women he’s killed were professionals. They wouldn’t go with someone who seemed dangerous.” Aaron’s eyes were fixed on the floor but he was biting deeply into his bottom lip. It was so blatantly obvious that he knew something but was trying to physically restrain himself from speaking. “What do you know?”

 

Aaron’s head shot up but as soon as he caught Spencer’s eye, he looked away over the younger man’s shoulder. “Nothing. Why would you ask that?”

 

“You’re pale. You’re avoiding making eye contact with me. You’re rubbing the back of your neck. I know your tells, Aaron. You know something about these murders.”

 

“I don’t. There’s just someone who comes in for confession. I don’t know if it’s related.”

 

“Tell me a name and I’ll have Garcia check it out.”

 

“I can’t do that. Even if I did know the full name, I couldn’t give you that information. Confession is confidential.”

 

“Not confession of a murder.”

 

“I have heard no confessions of murders. It’s just talk of – urges.”

 

“It’s the late night confessions. The ones that make you nervous.”

 

“Spencer, enough. I can’t tell you anything.”

 

“The young man with the curly hair. Pale face. I’ve seen him. He was here the first night I came. It’s him, isn’t it?”

 

“Spencer. Stop.”

 

“I just need you to tell me what he says. I won’t arrest him. We just need to talk to him. To eliminate him. Does he describe fantasies similar to the murders?”

 

“I can’t tell you that.”

 

“He obviously does. You recognized what I was talking about. It’s what set you off. When did he last confess? Has he been here in the last few days? Other than midnight mass. I saw him here then. The first woman was killed that night.”

 

“Spencer. I cannot tell you anything about confession. It is confidential. Everything said is only for God and the priest.” Spencer stared at Aaron’s intractable expression. The way his brows were drawn together. His arms folded tight across his chest. He couldn’t believe that his partner was going to let someone get away with murder because of his antiquated notion that confession actually redeemed a person.

 

“Well, let me give you a few more details. See if it will help change your mind.”

 

“It won’t.”

 

“Teresa Cortez. Twenty-one. She had a four-year-old son. Killed December 25th in the early hours of the morning. Throat slashed. Some hesitation marks.”

 

“Please, Spencer.” Aaron looked anguished but Spencer ignored it, powering on with his recitation.

 

“Natalia Adaleev. Nineteen. She was here on a student visa. Killed December 25th in the afternoon. Throat slashed. She was left in the alley.”

 

“I can’t tell you anything.”

 

“Maria Malavez. Also nineteen. Killed early morning on the 26th of December. Friends say she had taken Christmas off to be with her mother who has cancer. She was found in another alley beside a dumpster.”

 

“Stop. Just stop.”

 

“Amy Vallahue was seventeen years old. She was from New Jersey. She’d run away from home after her mother married her abusive boyfriend. She hadn’t been on the streets long. She had her throat cut so deeply that he almost reached her spinal cord. She died late night on December 26th. Her body was found near Capitol Hill. Outside of his comfort zone and we were called in.”

 

“Spencer. Stop. Please.”

 

“Why should I stop? He’s not going to. What do you know Aaron? Give me a name. Tell me who is coming to confession.”

 

“I can’t. I don’t know for sure. I cannot tell you anything. It’s against the rules.”

 

“Yeah, well, sticking your dick in me is also forbidden but that’s not stopping you.”

 

“Don’t,” Aaron begged, his face blanching. “You know it’s not the same.”

 

“I know women are dying and I am pretty sure you know something about it but you won’t tell me. That makes you as good as an accessory. What are you going to do, Aaron? Pray for their souls? Fat lot of good that’s doing them.”

 

“Spencer, please. I can’t. I can’t break the sanctity of confession until I know for sure that there is a good reason to do so. You can’t prove to me that Na—that the person is involved.”

 

“I can’t prove it because you won’t tell me anything.”

 

“Well, then we’re at a stalemate.”

 

“And more women are going to die because you don’t give a shit.”

 

“That is not true,” Aaron shot back angrily. His temper suddenly rising and Spencer was glad. Finally maybe they would get somewhere or maybe Aaron would reveal something accidentally out of anger. “Of course I care but confession is sacred and it is secret for a reason. Would you like me to tell your superiors about your drug use if they asked?”

 

Spencer froze. Aaron hadn’t gone there. He wouldn’t. “Don’t make this about me. I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

 

“No one but yourself and only because you were lucky. I’m sure you went to work high endangering your colleagues and yourself.”

 

“Fuck you, Aaron. You have no right. You didn’t even know me back then. My job matters to me. It always has.”

 

“And mine matters to me! The rules are there for a reason. I can’t break them at a whim.”

 

“I can’t even talk to you right now. Call me if you’re feeling more reasonable.” And with that Spencer turned on his heel and stormed out the church ignoring Aaron crying his name after him.  

 

“Everything okay?” Morgan asked as Spencer slammed the passenger door of the SUV that had been idling outside the church.

 

“Fine. He didn’t give me anything useful.”

 

“You don’t think he knows something?” Morgan asked, brow furrowed as he pulled out into the light traffic.

 

“Not as an accomplice, no, but I think he recognized the profile. He says he can’t tell me anything. He says he’d be breaking his vows.” Morgan snorted in disdain. A feeling that Spencer echoed. “Did you get anything from the neighbours?”

 

“Nope,” Morgan sighed. “Let’s get back and report to the big Boss.”

 

“Do we have to?” Spencer whined.

 

“Are you going to tell Ryan about your maps?”

 

“I don’t think he wants to hear about it. Makes me miss Gideon,” Spencer mumbled, the flash of anger at the thought of his absent mentor dulled by an ache of longing for their old team. Spencer’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he glanced at it. A message from Aaron. The first words were. “You’re being unfair.” Spencer angrily thumbed it shut and shoved his phone into his bag just as Morgan’s started to ring.

 

“Hey Babygirl!” Morgan greeted Garcia over the speakerphone. “We’re on our way back now.”

 

“Well, you better turn your butts around. Another body had just been discovered. It’s right where you are.”

 

“I knew it,” Spencer muttered under his breath as Morgan pulled a quick U-turn, sirens flashing as he headed towards the address Garcia reeled off. In less than five minutes’ drive, they were at another alleyway, already cordoned off by the police. The scene was a familiar one now. An unidentified woman lying dead next to a dumpster, a pool of blood haloing her head, her blonde hair tacky with it. However, the difference was instantly visible and it made Spencer nearly bite through his lip as his thoughts flew to Aaron. Carved into the woman’s stomach were the words: Forgive me. Morgan looked at him with a eyebrow raised but didn’t otherwise comment as they asked the responding officers to report on what they had so far.

 

As they’d waited for the crime scene unit, Spencer leaned back against the rough stone and called up into this mind the image of the young man who liked going to confession late at night. His fingers flew over a blank page of his journal, sketching sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes. An eidetic memory didn’t give him perfect facial recognition but that face was distinctive enough to warrant rememberance. When he finished, he showed it to Morgan who suggested that they circulate it as soon as they get back to the police station in the hope that it would yield  positive identifications. Spencer also thought that they should walk the streets in the area and see if any of the other girls recognized him. He wouldn’t have jumped straight into murder. Spencer was sure he would have watched first and it would be an easy way to get the image out before they alerted the public later. If Ryan would even allow Spencer to suggest that. The older agent seemed to want to shut down his ideas on principle at the moment but it was the only lead they had. He would simply be asked to come in for questioning as a witness as opposed to a suspect and hopefully Ryan wouldn’t press as to where Spencer got the sketch from. If he did, Spencer would lie and say he’d done it based on testimony from a prostitute who refused to be identified. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had been the only one to get the working girls comfortable enough to open up to. There were definitely benefits to appearing so non-threatening. It was a shaky plan at best and was probably going to involve lying to a superior when he was already on probabtion but with another body in the same neighbourhood, and with that message Spencer was sure that that kid had something to do with it. More worryingly, it seemed like he was fixated on Aaron. It was like a cat leaving sick presents on his master’s doorstep, desperate for approval.

 

Shortly after the crime scene unit and the coroners arrived,  Spencer’s phone started to ring. Glancing down at the screen he saw Aaron’s name and frowned. Spencer was still so angry that he was half-tempted to ignore Aaron’s phone call like he had the last three texts that he’d received over the past hour but the clotted words on the woman’s abdomen were burned on his brain. It was late, another woman was dead, and he was hopeful that Aaron had decided to give them something. Another body walking distance from the church couldn’t be a coincidence.

 

“Hello, Nathan,” Aaron’s voice came through distantly, like he had it on speaker and had stepped away. “Is everything okay?”

 

“I need to talk to you, Father.” The voice was little more than a whisper but it made Spencer’s blood run cold. He remembered that voice from that first stormy night in the church. Rain soaked and lost, that voice had said ‘your turn’. Oh God, it was Aaron’s turn.

 

“Of course. Can you put the knife down?”

 

Spencer turned and ran, pushing past everyone gathered around the crime scene tape, gawking at the worst humanity had to offer. He ignored Morgan shouting his name. He ignored the mass of police and bystanders who seemed to be trying to block him. He sprinted in the direction of the church terrified that he was going to be too late. Terrified that the last words he spoke to Aaron were going to be in anger. And still he held the phone to his ear, not wanting to miss a moment.

 

“I – I don’t think I can, Father. I want to know. Can God really forgive anything?”

 

“I believe so. If you are truly repentant then God will forgive. Put the knife down and let’s talk.”

 

“I’ve done bad things, Father.”

 

“We all have, son.”

 

“What have you done? Where have you been? I – I kept coming and you weren’t here. You were never here.”

 

“You can always confess to Father Rossi.”

 

“No,” Nathan screamed and Spencer put on another burst of speed. He was nearly there. “He doesn’t like me. Where were you?”

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, Nathan, but I’m here now.”

 

“You were with him, weren’t you? That – that guy. The tall skinny one. I see you talking to him. Smiling at him. You’re fucking him, aren’t you? Fornicating. It’s disgusting. Just like all the men I see in the alleyways. You can’t forgive. You’re dirty. You’re filthy.” Spencer broke through the church door, gun raised but Nathan was too fast, he sprung forward backing away from Spencer with one arm around Aaron, a dirty knife pressed against Aaron’s throat.

 

“Don’t shoot!” Aaron shouted, his hands raised, pleading with Spencer even as Nathan’s knife bit into the skin of his neck.

 

“It’s you,” Nathan spat out. “You – you corrupted him.”

 

“Nathan? Is that your name?” Spencer asked calmly, stepping slowly towards Nathan who backed away further into the church.

 

“What do you care?”

 

“My name’s Spencer. I work for the FBI.”

 

“The FBI?” Nathan’s eyes darted around. “Were you talking to the FBI about me? You promised me it was a secret. You promised.

 

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Aaron assured the young man calmly, even as he tried to inch his throat away from the blade.

 

“Are you sleeping together?” Nathan asked, again directing his attention to Spencer seeming a little lost and so young but he had lost any possibility for garnering Spencer’s sympathy when he held a knife to the pulse point of the only person Spencer had ever loved.

 

Aaron minutely shook his head but Spencer ignored him. “Yes. I’m not going to lie to you but you need to let Father Hotchner go or I will be forced to shoot you.”

 

“You – you wouldn’t. You might hit him. You wouldn’t do that.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t want to do that but my team is going to be following me and some of them might not be so afraid to do that. This is the end of the road for you, Nathan. You’re going to prison. You don’t want to do anything to Father Hotchner. I know you consider him your friend.”

 

“I did but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there when I needed to talk to him. He wasn’t there because he was with you!” Nathan raged. “You stole him from me! I want him back!” Aaron choked as Nathan’s knife sliced into the skin of his neck and Spencer’s raised his gun again from where it had drooped slightly as he had spoken. “He’s mine!”

 

Just as Nathan’s elbow twitched, a movement that Spencer knew was a prelude to slicing Aaron’s throat, a shot rang out. Spencer looked, almost in confusion at his gun, knowing that he hadn’t been brave enough to take the shot as Nathan shielded himself with Aaron’s body but there was Nathan slumped on the floor, blood pumping sluggishly from a bloody exit wound on his chest. Slowly Spencer raised his eyes and saw the figure of Father Rossi standing at the door to the vestry, gun still raised, with an almost horrified look on his face that he quickly concealed beneath a wry smile as he secured his firearm. “Aaron may be the better shot,” he spoke, his voice ringing in the still church, “but I’m the one who actually uses my concealed carry permit.”

 

Nathan coughed and Aaron seemed galvanized into motion. Despite the thin cut across this throat, he ran to the altar, gathering a few things before leaning over the young man on the floor. His knees slipping in the blood as he frantically crossed himself. Spencer stepped towards him, half to stop him, half with awe-struck fascination at the depth of Aaron’s commitment to this man.

 

“Father,” Nathan choked out, blood bubbling from his lips, “am I going to hell?”

 

“Not if you repent. Can you recite with me?”

 

“I don’t want to die, Father.”

 

“I’m sorry, Nathan. I’m so sorry I failed you.” Aaron laid his hand on Nathan’s head, murmuring words under his breath before he tried to lead Nathan in the Lord’s Prayer but the young man just choked again, the words sticking in his throat. “Nathan, please.” Aaron begged the young man, gripping one of his hands while the other fumbled for the communion wafers. The container fell from his hand and the little round discs floated into the pool of blood where they turned a lurid shade of pink. Aaron just stopped and stared as Nathan’s grip on his hand slackened until the boy’s hands fell onto his chest with a soft thump that echoed around the empty church. Spencer moved closer, seeing the boy’s eyes wide and utterly vacant.

 

“Aaron?” Spencer asked but the other man made no response.

 

Suddenly, the doors of the church were thrown open. Morgan leading a team of officers down the aisle with guns raised. Father Rossi stepped forward, raising his hands before carefully placing his gun on the floor.

 

“Reid? What the fuck happened?” Morgan bit out tersely as Prentiss tugged Aaron away from the corpse on the floor.

 

Spencer turned to see the pain stricken face of Jesus Christ staring down at the scene before him with censure. Two thousand years and still people continued to inflict pain and suffering on one another while good men were left to shoulder the blame. He glanced at Aaron, slack jawed, hands crusted with now drying blood and thought “For your hands are defiled with blood, and your fingers with iniquity; your lips have spoken lies, your tongue mutters wickedness” but when he looked back at Nathan’s hands they were lily white with pardoned sin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays everyone, whatever you celebrate!


	18. The Good News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rivermoon1970 made a beautiful banner for this story. Please go check it out at the beginning of chapter 1. It's awesome.

“That’s all for now, Father Hotchner, you’re free to go but we may need to question you further at a later date.” Aaron nodded numbly and picked at the hem of the scrubs he’d been given to wear when they took his clothes in as evidence. Finally, with a weary sigh, he pushed himself out of the chair and to the door of the interview room where he’d been telling his story for the past couple of hours. A glance at the clock on the wall told him that it was almost two in the morning but he felt like he had lived years in this past twenty four hours. If it was a normal night, he would be getting ready to sleep, running his sermon for the next day through his mind, making sure that he was prepared for morning mass but his church was a crime scene and he had no desire to be a priest anymore. He wasn’t fit.

 

Out in the corridor, Spencer was waiting for him on a low, uncomfortable bench. At the sight of Aaron, the other man shot up and towards him, before hesitating and pulling his hand away. Aaron just nodded once, resigned to the fact that Spencer didn’t even want to touch him. The other man was right. He had allowed Nathan to murder five young women. His commitment to his calling and his silence had killed those women. An accomplice. That’s what he was. They may not be charging him but he would carry that guilt to his grave. Out, out damn spot, the words of Lady Macbeth had been swirling through his mind as he had talked himself hoarse. The police officers who had taken his statement had queried every interaction with Nathan Harris from their first meeting up until their last. Up until he was practically shoving a wafer into the dying boy’s mouth. He hadn’t even known his surname until they had told him at the beginning of the interview. He hadn’t really known anything at all. So full of pride, belief in his ability to save a young man. A fool. He was nothing but a fool.

 

“Do you want to go home?” Spencer asked, quietly, his voice barely heard over the buzz of the police station even at this time. No rest for the good or the wicked. Aaron just shrugged. Spencer held out a sweater to him and Aaron pulled it over his neck, wincing as the collar caught on the bandage at his throat. He hadn’t needed stitches but the paramedic had warned him that he might be left with a slight scar. It seemed fitting that he should carry a mark of his failure for the rest of his natural life. “Um, come on then. I have a Bureau SUV and I don’t have to go back into work. Ryan suspended me again until this ‘clusterfuck’ is sorted out. His words not mine.”

 

Aaron nodded slowly and Spencer sighed, plucking his sleeve and motioning for him to follow him. As they emerged from the police station, the cold was biting. The clouds covered the moon and everything looked sickly in the light of the streetlamps. The cars on the road swished softly through the drizzle that was falling and leaving everything streaked and dirty. The drive back to Spencer’s apartment passed in silence apart from the radio that Spencer had turned on, with an attempt at a smile in Aaron’s direction. He distantly recognized that Spencer had turned on the music for him but he couldn’t even hear what was playing over the ringing of self-recriminations.

 

The stairs to Spencer’s apartment almost proved to be too much but he dragged himself up and waited quietly for Spencer to unlock the door. It was only when he was standing abstractedly in front of the small Christmas tree that Spencer turned to him with a sigh. “Aaron, you have to talk to me at some point,” Spencer pleaded, crossing his arms over his chest but the gesture came across as more defensive that defiant. Aaron idly wondered if Spencer was afraid of what he was going to say or do. It didn’t make any sense. No one was to blame for Nathan’s death other than Aaron himself. Aaron cleared his throat, mouth opening briefly before he closed it again in favour of shrugging. “Please,” Spencer begged.

 

Aaron tried again, because he at least owed Spencer that much. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, grateful for the half-light cast from the hallway into the otherwise dark apartment. He didn’t think he could handle the fear of what lay in the shadows. After this night, perhaps he would be the one asking Spencer to leave the light on at bedtime now. That is if Spencer still wanted him in his life and his bed. If he still wanted a guilty man.

 

“Is this the first time you’ve seen someone die?” Spencer asked, “Sorry, that sounded sort of callous. I just meant –“

 

“No,” Aaron interrupted. “I have been around the dying frequently. It is part of my duties as a priest.”

 

“Oh, right, of course. But I know this is different. A violent death is – it is something I’ll never really get used to. Every time I have to pull the trigger of my gun –“

 

“You didn’t kill Nathan.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Thank you for that.”

 

“I wanted to kill him. I would have done without hesitation if I had a clean shot.”

 

“Oh,” Aaron’s shoulders slumped slightly, the harsh material of the scrubs was tight and itchy under his sweater. It was the sweater he had given Spencer. He wondered if Spencer was giving it back now. If they were finished. “I thought you were listening to me.”

 

“You taught me something today,” Spencer muttered. Aaron kept his gaze trained on the floor until it didn’t seem as if Spencer was going to continue his thought and then he looked up. Spencer’s hands were now shoved in his pockets and when Aaron caught his eye, he gave him a wry smile. “You taught me the bone deep terror of seeing someone I love in danger. I now know how my team felt when I walked in front of Owen’s gun. Not that they, you know, love love me but they, you know, care. I thought he was going to kill you, Aaron. Of course, I wanted to kill him first. If he had truly hurt you, I would have hunted him down and shot him like a sick dog even if he was begging for mercy.” Aaron frowned deeply at the bile in Spencer’s tone. “I know. That’s wrong and terrible but it’s also true. Even seeing you with that bandage across your throat right now makes me feel sick at how close I came to losing you today.”

 

“So you’re not going to break up with me?” Aaron asked in a small voice. That probably wasn’t what he should be focusing on at the moment but he really needed a little bit of stable ground under his feet at this moment.

 

“What?” Spencer looked genuinely confused. “Why would I be breaking up with you?”

 

“Because I wouldn’t tell you what Nathan said in confession. You were so angry and then you wouldn’t answer my messages. And you were right.”

 

“Yes. I was. Right and angry. I can’t even begin to understand why you placed the secrecy of confession above those women’s lives –“

 

“It wasn’t that. I really couldn’t believe it was Nathan even when my whole body and mind was screaming at me that he was guilty. From the moment you got that call and you told me that their throats were being slit, I knew. I knew but I didn’t believe. I didn’t want it to be true and so I decided that it wasn’t. Is there any chance that he didn’t do it? Didn’t kill all those women?”

 

“No,” Spencer said without hesitation and Aaron felt his last flicker of hope, of belief in the goodness of Nathan die. “I mean, Ryan isn’t giving me any updates on the investigation now but Garcia texted me that Nathan’s DNA matches the skin cells found under Teresa and Amy’s fingernails. The clothing he was wearing is consistent with fibres found on the latest, as yet unidentified body. I know that still leaves two victims but the method of murder was so similar that I doubt there is another killer operating in the area with the exact same modus operandi at the exact same time.”

 

Aaron nodded slowly and stared at his feet. He was still wearing his shoes. He should have taken his shoes off at the door, like Spencer preferred. He should have put his slippers on, the fluffy ones that Spencer got him for Christmas. Christmas seemed like a very long time ago.

 

Spencer sighed heavily and sat down on the sofa, motioning for Aaron to join him. They sat in silence for a moment, Aaron perched on the edge, running his thumb along the seam of the grey cotton pants they’d given him until he noticed that there was still some blood embedded under his nail and then he felt a little sick. What, will these hands ne’er be clean?, he mused to himself, absently picking at his nails until Spencer stopped him with gentle hands. Aaron turned to him feeling utterly lost. Spencer bit his lip and then said, as if admitting a great secret: “If I had been wrong, it would have been an inexcusable invasion of someone’s privacy.”

 

It took Aaron a moment to gather up the threads of the conversation, but when he did he shook his head. “No. Even if Nathan had been innocent of this crime, he would have done something sometime. He was beyond my help.”

 

“There’s no way of knowing that. Anyway, this is all hypotheticals.”

 

“I wanted to help him.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I thought I was helping him.”

 

“You probably were but his dependence on you was unhealthy.”

 

“He wouldn’t go to confession with David. I mean, it’s not unusual for people to have a personal confessor but it was his visceral reaction to the idea of talking to someone other than me. Maybe if I had been at the church more, then those women would still be alive.”

 

“’You are weighing his iniquities with yours and that truly is too heavy a burden,’ you said those words to me once. Remember?”

 

“I remember.”

 

“Don’t do that to yourself, Aaron. You are too good a man to feel so guilty.”

 

“I think I want to go to sleep,” Aaron mumbled, anything to escape further conversation although he couldn’t imagine sleeping again. He could feel the nightmares lurking over his shoulder and they all had Nathan’s lifeless eyes.

 

“Alright. Um, you can go. I’m not going to keep you here.” Aaron stood and moved in the direction of Spencer’s bedroom. He supposed it was still their bedroom. He just didn’t feel like he deserved it at that moment. Spencer spoke again, “Um, do you want me to join you?”

 

“Do you want to have sex?” Aaron asked, absently wondering if that would help him feel a little less hollowed out.

 

“No, I didn’t mean – I don’t think that would be a good idea. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I don’t think either of us is in the right frame of mind right now. I just thought you might like me there. To hold you or something. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“No. That sounds nice,” Aaron admitted even as another wave of guilt hit him as he accepted comfort. He didn’t deserve comfort.

 

“Good. Thank you.” Spencer whispered as they walked into the bedroom, each shedding their outer layers. Aaron lay down, still in his scrubs and Spencer in his boxers and undershirt. Aaron stretched flat out, staring at the ceiling, still so glad that Spencer had lights on at night. Spencer lay next to him, just as stiff until he sighed and rolled onto his side, placing one hand on Aaron’s chest, right over his heart. And at that tiny gesture, Aaron broke. A sob caught in his throat and he turned, wrapping his arm around Spencer’s waist, burying his head under his chin, curling up in a ball and sobbing like a small child. All he felt was the warmth of Spencer holding him, one hand rubbing his back, the other cradling his head. All he heard were whispered sounds of comfort. All he saw were Nathan’s dead eyes until he suddenly saw nothing.

 

Aaron woke when Spencer moved out of the bed and he vaguely heard the sound of Spencer’s phone ringing from the other room. He couldn’t believe that he had cried himself to sleep. He hadn’t done that since he was about eight years old. He felt wrung out but less empty than he had the night before. A glance at the clock, showed him that it was just after eight. He listened to the gentle cadence of Spencer’s voice in the other room, amazed that he had slept at all. There hadn’t been any nightmares but he was sure that those would come when he wasn’t so exhausted. He hoped Spencer had managed to sleep too.

 

Sleep had been a brief reprieve but now he needed to start making the important phone calls that he had been putting off since his relationship with Spencer had begun. The thought that he now had a convenient excuse for leaving the priesthood crossed his mind, chased by a nauseating wave of guilt. Five women were dead. Nathan was dead. And he was thankful that he didn’t have to throw himself out of the closet. He wasn’t sure when he had become such a selfish person. Perhaps he always had been and just hadn’t seen it. He would have to tender his resignation. Actually, the closure of the church would ease that as well. The lack of services would be difficult for the older parishioners who would find it difficult to travel to another church. Well, he certainly wasn’t in any place to help them. He was steeped in sin. His previous plans for after laicization, to work in youth outreach, didn’t really seem very realistic anymore. He certainly had done no good for Nathan.

 

The door creaked as it was gently pushed open and Spencer ducked around, closing it quietly behind him and turning to the bed noticing that Aaron was awake. “Well, there’s good news and bad news,” Spencer shrugged with a small smile and sat on the edge of the bed. “Ryan wanted to fire me but the Director stepped in and told him, in no uncertain terms, that firing me wasn’t an option so I’m suspended for another couple of weeks. The Director also thinks this wasn’t my fault. You know, the whole my priest being also the confessor of a murderer. Good call on not saying we are together.”

 

“I didn’t think it would show you in a good light,” Aaron admitted, scrubbing a hand over his gritty eyes. “Was that lying to the police?”

 

“Did you say we weren’t in a relationship?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then you didn’t lie. And thank you for protecting me.”

 

“It was the least I could do after getting everything so wrong.”

 

“I saw that you had some messages on your phone,” Spencer said brightly, and Aaron noted that the attempt at a subject change wasn’t even close to subtle but he took the opening and the phone that Spencer held out to him.

 

Aaron saw that three were from David, one from Morgan. “David has been released.”

 

“I know. I meant to tell you that. Sorry.”

 

“I hadn’t even thought about it. Jesus fucking Christ,” Aaron ignored Spencer’s sharp intake of breath at his blasphemy. He was suddenly furious at everything and everyone but particularly God. Where was God in all this? How could he allow this to happen? He had read Job. He’d preached sermons on why bad things happened to good people. He wasn’t about to think that this was a punishment for his relationship with Spencer. It just wasn’t. If it had been, the punishment would have included Spencer leaving him and the young man was right there next to him. Maybe God didn’t exist and it was all just random. Maybe He did exist and he just didn’t care. Maybe He was just an asshole.  “This is such a fucking shitty mess. My best friend had to fucking shoot a kid.”

 

“Okay, anger is good,” Spencer mumbled and sat closer to Aaron on the bed, gripping his hand firmly as it flew through the air. “What did David say?”

 

“He’s coming over. I’m to call him when I’m awake. I should call him. It’s good that he was released, right?”

 

“Well, yes. The investigation is ongoing but he wasn’t considered a flight risk.”

 

“Will he be punished?”

 

“I don’t think so. I mean, it’s hard to say. DC, for all it’s law enforcement offices, is pretty tough on guns so it’s not really in Father Rossi’s favour that he was armed. Um, I mean, I’m glad he was but it’ll be viewed harshly. Still, he saved your life. There is no doubt about that. Um, it could also be treated as shooting an intruder on private property. The intruder was also clearly demonstrating a willingness to use deadly force. So, that would make it legal.”

 

“Will it go to court?”

 

“I really don’t know, Aaron. I hope not.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Exhausted but a little less empty.”

 

“Can you eat something?”

 

“I’ll try,” Aaron offered just because Spencer was looking at him so pleadingly. “I just want to call David first. And shower.”

 

“Okay. I’ll start coffee,” Spencer squeezed his hand one more time before leaving the room. Aaron took a deep breath and called his friend.

 

“Aaron,” David answered after the first ring and Aaron realized that he must have been waiting for his call.

 

“I’m so sorry, David,” he blurted out, feeling on the edge of tears again.

 

“This is not your fault,” David’s voice was sharp. “I don’t regret my actions. I regret the final outcome but I would never have forgiven myself if you had died.”

 

“This is such a mess,” Aaron muttered, rubbing a hand over his brow.

 

“Yes,” David stated baldly.

 

“Spencer said that you probably won’t be charged.”

 

‘We’ll see. I only hope God will forgive me.” Aaron snorted derisively. He didn’t want to think about God anymore. The past two days seemed unnecessarily cruel after years of devotion. He’d never wanted anything from God. He’d believed unflinchingly and unselfishly but this was too much. This was beyond comprehension. “Faith will help you, Aaron. Don’t turn your back now.”

 

“I’m tendering my resignation today.”

 

“I expected as much.”

 

“I’ll call this morning.”

 

“How’s Spencer?”

 

“He still loves me,” Aaron whispered.

 

“I know. I never doubted that. Can I come see you this evening?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“See you later, Aaron. Go eat something.”

 

“Why is everyone suddenly so concerned with my diet?” Aaron snapped.

 

“I’ll see you later,” David simply replied unmoved by Aaron’s ire which instantly fizzled out.

 

“I look forward to it. Take care, David.” Aaron let his friend hang up first and then stared at his screen until it faded to black. Then, with a sigh, he unlocked it again and scrolled until he reached a number he rarely used.

 

This time the phone rang for so long that he almost gave up before a frazzled male voice answered with a distracted: “The office of Cardinal Matteo Cruz. Father Nyland speaking. How may I help you?”

 

“Hello, Father. This is Father Aaron Hotchner.” Aaron swore it sounded like the whole room on the other end of the line had suddenly been plunged into silence. He pulled the phone from his ear to check that the call hadn’t been dropped. It hadn’t. “Hello?”

 

“Yes. Sorry. Father Hotchner. Of course. I’ll put your call through.”

 

Aaron’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t expected to actually speak to the Cardinal. He’d figured he’d leave a message and then confirm his resignation in the post. But the phone was picked up again and he drew a deep breath.

 

“Father Hotchner,” Cardinal Cruz’s voice came clearly through the phone. “How are you?”

 

“Your eminence,” Aaron stumbled. “I – I’m fine.”

 

“Quite an ordeal you and Father Rossi have undergone, I understand.”

 

“Yes, your eminence. David has had the greater challenge.”

 

“I understand that you were injured.”

 

“It was superficial.”

 

“I expect that the wound to your soul is far greater. We aim to help but that is not always possible. You know that.” Aaron stayed silent, not knowing what to reply. “How may I help you?”

 

“I wanted to inform your office of my resignation, your eminence.”

 

“Don’t be hasty. You should pray for guidance and take a few days to consider.”

 

“Truthfully, your eminence, I had been planning to leave after Epiphany. This has merely confirmed to me that I am no longer fit for the priesthood.”

 

“Ah. I see.” Aaron suddenly felt a flush of panic that perhaps the Cardinal might know about Spencer. “You cannot be dissuaded?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, I will be sorry to lose you, Aaron. You did wonderful things, especially with the youth.”

 

“And one of them turned out to be a serial killer,” Aaron muttered bitterly.

 

“Thus says the Lord: As the wine is found in the cluster, and they say, ‘Do not destroy it, for there is a blessing in it,” so I will do for my servants’ sake, and not destroy them all’”. One bad apple does not spoil the bunch, Aaron.”

 

“No, your eminence.”

 

“I suppose I can expect your paperwork in the next couple of days.”

 

“Yes, your eminence.”

 

The cardinal sighed heavily. “I will pray for you to have a change of heart, Aaron. You have done so much good but if this is truly your path then I wish you well.”

 

“Thank you, your eminence.”

 

“Peace be with you.”

 

“And with you.” Aaron hung up and felt marginally lighter. His resignation had long been postponed. Of course, he still had to submit his formal resignation and receive his dispensation from Rome to be freed from the obligation of chastity, though that boat had long sailed. Still, one burden had been lifted. Now, he just had to figure out how to live with the crippling memory of Nathan bleeding out on the church floor. A scalding hot shower seemed to be the best place to start.

 

Spencer was waiting for him with toast and omelettes on that table when he finally left the bathroom. His skin was pink and he had scrubbed his fingernails until he felt like he had finally removed every molecule of blood beneath them. He felt raw but refreshed and, to his surprise, he found that he was hungry. Spencer smiled at him as he took a bite of toast and started to dig into his own food. From the way that Spencer’s leg was bouncing erratically under the table, Aaron figured that he was already heading towards double digits on his coffee cups but it all felt so comfortably normal to be eating with his partner that the knot in his stomach loosened enough to allow him to eat most of the food on his plate. He waved Spencer away when the other man started to collect the dishes but on a whim, caught his hand and pulled him in, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 

Spencer’s answering smile was blinding and he wrapped his arms around Aaron, holding him tightly. Aaron had removed the bandage after his shower and all the through breakfast Spencer had been eyeing the cut with a sour look on his face. When he pulled back, he traced the edge of the wound with his fingers.

 

“This should still be wrapped.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“I’ll re-bandage it for you.”

 

Aaron shrugged. “I resigned.”

 

“Oh,” Spencer looked at him for a moment before biting his lip nervously. “Are you okay?”

 

“With my resignation? Yes. It’s been a long time coming. In general, no, probably not.”

 

“It’ll get easier.”

 

“Maybe. I’ll do the dishes.”

 

“Okay, I’ll, um, go read?” Spencer seemed to be asking for his permission so Aaron nodded but then the buzzer rang shrilly. “Is that Father Rossi?”

 

“I don’t think so. He said he’ll be coming round this evening.”

 

Spencer went to the door, and Aaron heard him let the person in. Whoever it was, Spencer clearly trusted them. “Hi, Spence!” came a female voice as Spencer opened the door. Aaron shrank back into the kitchen, not sure who was visiting and calling him Spence. A slight wave of jealousy rolled over him but he pushed in back down.

 

“Hello,” Spencer said sounding surprised and a little lost. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Well, remember I had some news to tell you? Since you won’t be in work for a while, I thought I should come here. You weren’t answering your phone and I was worried that maybe you were taking your suspension hard.” There was a pause. “Can I come in?”

 

“Oh, oh yes, of course.” Aaron heard the door close and felt a little trapped in the kitchen, not sure if he was meant to be hiding or not. Wait, didn’t Spencer once say that only JJ called him Spence? This could be JJ but did JJ know about him? He backed up a little more and promptly knocked over a glass which fell into the sink with a crash.

 

“Is there someone in your kitchen?” JJ asked. “Oh! Is it your boyfriend? Can I meet him?” Whatever Spencer’s reply was going to be, was lost as JJ appeared in the door to the kitchen grinning broadly but her smile somewhat faltered as her eyes lighted on Aaron who was sure he looked terrified in the corner. “Father Hotchner?” JJ asked, looking suspiciously between Aaron and Spencer.

 

“Ah, yes. Um, JJ this is my boyfriend, Aaron. Aaron Hotchner. Um, Aaron, this is Jennifer Jareau. You can call her JJ, I think.”

 

“Spence, explain.” JJ turned to Spencer with her arms crossed over her chest.

 

“Would you like a drink?” Aaron asked, since it was clear Spencer was faltering, unsure where to start. “We could sit down.”

 

JJ gave him a discerning look before her features softened. “Sure, what do you have?”

 

“We still have some soda left over from Christmas or there’s fruit juice. It’s early but I guess you don’t want any alcohol anyway.”

 

JJ gave him another very calculating glare but there seemed to be a warmth in her eyes. “Why would you guess that, Aaron?”

 

“Oh, I,” Aaron looked at Spencer desperately for help but his partner just looked confused by the whole conversation. “You’re not – I’m sorry.”

 

“No. I am.” JJ said smiling softly at him and it was slightly disconcerting. She seemed gentle but Aaron got the feeling that there was an iron will beneath that as well as razor sharp wit. “I just want to know how you figured it out. This one has no idea.” She gestured to Spencer who spluttered but said nothing.

 

“Ah, well, it’s the way your hand is resting on your stomach. It’s very protective.”

 

“Protective of what?” Spencer finally asked.

 

“I came to tell you that I’m pregnant.”

 

“You’re having a baby?” Spencer practically screamed. “A real baby?”

 

JJ laughed. “Yup, a real honest-to-God baby.”

 

“With the guy from New Orleans?”

 

“Seriously, you knew too?” It was JJ’s turn to look put out. “Did everyone know?”

 

“I knew,” Aaron admitted. And JJ sighed. “Just because Spencer told me.”

 

“Well, that’s my news. Now, let’s sit down and you can tell me all about this,” she gestured between the two of them. “Wait, does Ryan know?”

 

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way,” Spencer muttered as he started to get glasses out the cupboard for them. “He already hates me enough as it is.”

 

They moved to the table that was still set up in the living room from the dinner the day after Christmas. “So, how long have you been together?”

 

“Ah, well, we had our first date after the Katie Jacobs case but I’ve known him since after the case with Joe Smith. You remember –“

 

“I remember,” JJ assured him with a grimace. “So, nothing to do with this current mess.”

 

“No,” Aaron said quietly, hating the reminder of everything that was still ongoing. Spencer gripped his hand.

 

“Have you heard anything about Father Rossi?” Spencer asked.

 

“No. Do you know him too? You are too tangled up in this, Spence.”

 

“I know. He’s a friend – and Aaron’s best friend.”

 

“He’s a great shot,” JJ commented and Aaron winced again as the echo of the shot reverberated in his brain but he nodded.

 

“We both enjoy shooting at the range,” he offered.

 

“Aaron’s going to coach me,” Spencer smiled before it faltered, “if you still want to after this experience. I can understand if you don’t want to be around guns for a while – or knives.”

 

“Or psychopaths,” Aaron added drily and JJ laughed.

 

“Well, good thing you’re not working with us. Speaking of work, I better get going  before Ryan tracks me down. I took the morning off for a check-up.”

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“Yes, Spence,” JJ tapped his hand. “You’re going to read everything about pregnancy now, aren’t you?”

 

“I need to be prepared in case you go into labour in the office,” Spencer defended himself as they stood.

 

“I’ll be in good hands if I do,” JJ smiled and turned to Aaron. “It was nice to meet you. Oh, we should totally get together for a double date. Will has decided to move to DC. It’ll be nice to have some couple friends.”

 

“Uh –“ Spencer offered eloquently.

 

“Thank you. We’d like that,” Aaron said as he realized that, with his resignation, he’d be able to go out with Spencer in public. For the first time since Spencer received the fated phone call about the murdered working girls, a genuine smile broke across his face.

 

“Good,” JJ smiled back as Spencer mouthed the words ‘double date’ in consternation. “I’ll see myself out. I hope you’ll be back at work soon, Spence.”

 

Aaron waited until the door closed until he pulled Spencer close and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I resigned.”

 

“I know. You already told me that.” Spencer looped his arms around Aaron’s neck, looking happy but still somewhat confused.

 

“We can go out. On dates to restaurants.”

 

“We can,” Spencer grinned and kissed Aaron again. “Apparently on double dates as well. Weird.”

 

“Everything is going to be okay, right?” Aaron asked, pressing their foreheads together.

 

“I don’t know but I think so. I believe in us.”

 

“That’s good enough for me,” Aaron whispered back as he thought of his wavering belief in God. Maybe believing in Spencer and their relationship would be enough. Maybe he would find his faith again. Either way, the future was apparently wide open, which was both terrifying and exciting in equal measure. “I’m going to start drafting the paperwork for me resignation.”

 

“Okay, I thought about starting a new paper. This last case has given me a couple of ideas I want to explore. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

 

“No, something good needs to come of this whole mess and if it can help people in the future then that’s a good thing.”

 

“Alright. I – uh – I kinda write best on the bed. I spread out papers and stuff.”

 

“That’s fine. I’ll be in here.”

 

“Okay. Good.” Spencer kissed him again and then they both retreated to their work. Aaron lost himself in drafting his resignation. By the time he looked up, the sun had set and he was starving. His first day of not being a priest had passed unremarked. He felt like he should have done something a bit wild like sucked Spencer off in front of an open window, which he may have fantasized about doing after handing in his resignation, but he’d never imagined that he would have resigned over the death of a murderer among his parishioners. His sadness over Nathan’s death seemed to have tempered as he filled in forms, wrote and re-wrote his resignation letter. Instead, he just felt more anger at the young man, more anger for having put David in the position of having to kill a man. As if on cue, the buzzer rang and Spencer poked his head out the bedroom door, his glasses low on his nose and his hair ruffled.

 

“Should I go out?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Aaron replied as he walked to the door, “I’ll ask David but I want you here.”

 

“Um, then I’ll be in there,” Spencer gestured towards the living room and disappeared. Aaron took a deep breath. He wanted to see his friend but he had no idea how to talk to the man who had taken such a burden on his soul in order to save his life. Eventually, he blew out an explosive breath and pressed the button. This was about being here for David in whatever capacity he needed.

 

“It’s good to see you,” David murmured as Aaron opened the door and pulled his friend into an embrace. David looked terrible. Beard scraggly, hair unwashed, eyes bloodshot. “I don’t regret it. Not for a minute. Seeing you here –“ David choked “alive.”

 

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Aaron murmured before pulling back and looking into David’s eyes. “You look terrible.”

 

“Thank you,” David attempted a smile which faltered. “Can I come in?”

 

“Of course.” Aaron pulled him into the apartment.

 

“Is Spencer here?”

 

“Yes. He offered to go out, if you would prefer.”

 

“No, keep your better half around.”

 

“Come sit down.”

 

“Can I press you for a drink?”

 

“Sure. That good whiskey you brought is long gone but we’ve got something.”

 

“I’ll take anything. Evening, Spencer.” David greeted the young man who was standing in the living room, looking awkward.

 

Spencer hesitated for a moment before he kind of stumbled forward and pulled David into an awkward hug. Aaron couldn’t hear anything beyond a mumbled ‘thank you’. Feeling like he was intruding, Aaron went to the kitchen to grab the whiskey and glasses. Spencer’s gratitude hadn’t even been something that he had considered. When he returned, Spencer was sitting cross-legged on the floor while David was sitting on the couch looking exhausted.

 

“Drink, everyone?”

 

Both men nodded their assent and Aaron poured them all healthy measures, settling on the couch next to David.

 

“A toast,” David murmured, raising his glass, “to life.”

 

“To life,” Aaron and Spencer intoned, drinking deep.

 

“So, it looks like I might not go to jail,” David offered nonchalantly.

 

“I never considered that you would,” Aaron muttered. “Did you?”

 

“Of course, I killed a man.” David answered. “May God forgive my soul.”

 

“If there is any good in Heaven, He will,” Aaron answered with some ire.

 

“Don’t stop believing,” David asked earnestly, gripping Aaron’s knee.

 

Aaron wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the past couple of days, the half glass of whiskey, or the good company but he couldn’t stop the explosive laugh that burst passed his lips and startled Spencer into spilling half his whiskey onto his pants. “Did you just use Journey to motivate me?”

 

“For Pete’s sake, Aaron, I was totally sincere.”

 

“Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world” Aaron hummed.

 

“Well, a career in music is out of the question,” David grumbled.

 

“I am so confused,” Spencer complained, refilling his drink.

 

“Don’t worry about it kid. You can leave the hair bands out of your musical education. What you need to know is the Rat Pack. Frank, Sammy, Dean. That’s music.”

 

Spencer nodded earnestly and Aaron snorted. “It’s good, David, but it’s not the be all and end all.”

 

“You’re going to fill his head with country.”

 

“My tastes are very eclectic,” Aaron shot back, “but he needs to know his Waylon from his Wagoner.”

 

“I know Wagner!” Spencer perked up with a smile.

 

“Porter Wagoner. Very different.”

 

“Not as important,” David offered sagely as he poured generous measures into both his and Aaron’s glasses.

 

The easy conversation was  a reprieve. Aaron had been worried that David would have been consumed by what had happened the night before but his friend seemed eager to move on, or at least to put it to one side for this evening. The tension was still there around the corners of his eyes, the too tight grip on his glass, but his smiles were freer as the evening wore on.

 

“Are you going to resign too?” Spencer asked, toying with his drink as the conversation lagged and David yawned.

 

“No,” David instantly replied, looking sincere but sad, “this is my life. The community will need guidance more than ever.”

 

“I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch,” Aaron murmured, rolling his glass between his palms. “I can’t go back though. Even without,” he gestured to Spencer who was leaning back on his palms, looking thoughtfully towards the ceiling.”

 

“I understand. Well, I better get going. I’ll be at home until the church is cleared, if you need me.”

 

“Thank you again,” Aaron murmured and stood to see him out.

 

At the door, David turned and clasped his arm, holding his gaze: “Repay me by having a good life, Aaron, you deserve the happiness.”

 

Aaron just nodded and closed the door. When he turned, Spencer was leaning against the wall, a long line of lean muscle with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his feet bare. “I love you,” Aaron murmured and pressed up against him. “Take me to bed.”

 

“Bed as in bed bed or sex bed?” Spencer asked, already walking them backwards through the door to the bedroom. As promised, papers were scattered across the surface, books face down with cracked spines and an ancient laptop humming gently on the floor.

 

“Sex bed, please,” Aaron said before letting go to quickly clear the bed, piling everything up on the chair that used to be used for Spencer’s dirty laundry before Aaron brought his hamper to the apartment.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I was thinking we could spend all tomorrow in bed,” Aaron replied, collapsing onto his back and gesturing for Spencer to join him.

 

“We could. We are both men of leisure at the moment. But are you sure? I know you must be –“

 

“Angry, upset, hurt? I am but I’m also happy to be alive and here with you.”

 

“Oh. Good. That’s good.”


	19. Closure

Aaron woke gasping for breath, clawing at the sheets that were tangled around his waist as he tried to flee from the hands that grasped his wrists. Wildly, he swung his fist, satisfied when it collided with flesh and the grip finally loosened enough that he was able to escape. Fiery pain shot up his thighs as his knees struck the floor and he braced himself on his arms, his left wrist ached with remembered pain over three decades old. Sweat dripped between from his brow onto the bare floorboards and he suddenly felt very cold, no longer burning from the hellfire. No longer being gripped by Nathan’s long skinny fingers and dragged into Hell. 

“Aaron, can you hear me?” Spencer asked, very softly from somewhere over Aaron’s shoulder. In bed with Spencer. He was in bed with Spencer. He wasn’t in Hell. Yet. Oh God, he’d just hit Spencer. This might have just been a bad dream but his nightmare was coming true. He was his father.

“I’m sorry,” his voice sounded painful, the syllables gratingly rough. “I had a nightmare.”

“I know. Want to talk about it?”

Aaron crawled back onto the bed, his heart hammering in his chest and saw Spencer, naked and beautiful, his eyes still hazy with sleep, unfocused behind the crooked glasses that clearly been hastily put onto his face. “I’m sorry I hit you.” 

“It’s okay. It was a reflex. You aren’t your father,” Aaron flinched as Spencer unerringly poked his finger right onto the seeping, guilt-festered wound. “Want to talk about it?” Spencer repeated.

Aaron reached out, hand shaking in case Spencer flinched but he didn’t, and straightened Spencer’s glasses, soothing himself by running his fingers over the sharp angles of Spencer’s face, warm and so real. “When I was nine, my father broke my left arm.”

“Why?” Spencer asked, even as his expression hardened.

“He wanted me to learn to write with my right hand.”

“Is that what you dreamed about?” Spencer asked, cradling Aaron’s left hand and gently manipulating the fingers as if he could somehow heal him after all this time. Aaron laced their fingers together.

“No. Do you believe in Hell?”

“No,” Spencer answered without hesitation. “I don’t believe in any sort of afterlife.”

“So no Heaven either.”

“No Heaven.”

“What do you think happens?”

“I don’t know. It just seems improbable that there is a place of eternal torture for souls being as morality is often so arbitrarily judged.”

“Murder isn’t arbitrary.”

“Sometimes it is. One man’s terrorist attack is another man’s martyrdom.”

“I dreamt that Nathan was dragging me to Hell. I fought him. I shouldn’t have fought him.”

Spencer snorted. “Of course you should have.”

“You don’t even believe in Hell.”

“I know that you believe in Hell and apparently you believe that you should go there which is stupid.” Spencer crossed his arms over his chest and glared. He looked so adorable and righteous at the same time that it made Aaron hope that Hell was nothing more than a distant abstraction. Aaron leaned forward, pushing Spencer back onto the bed and laying down on top of him. Spencer wrapped his arms around Aaron’s shoulders but turned his face away when Aaron tried to kiss him. “You’re trying to distract me with sex which is surprisingly devious for a man who up until recently was a virgin. I’m happy you’re a quick learner but this is important. You are a good man.”

“I’ve got blood on my hands, Spencer,” Aaron muttered sadly. “I will be judged for my sins and I will probably go to Hell.”

“What happened to that whole ‘God will forgive’ crap? You thought Nathan Harris could be saved.”

“I don’t deserve to be saved.”

“Is this some kind of Constantine tortured soul thing? I really don’t think you’d look good in a trench coat. You’d look like a creepy flasher.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I think you just insulted me.”

“I just gave you some fashion advice. Garcia would find that hilarious. The point is that you need to forgive yourself, Aaron. Everything that happened with Nathan was not your fault. He was a deeply troubled young man.”

“I know that.”

“I don’t think you do. I think that you should think about going to see Father Rossi again, once everything has died down and the church has reopened. I think you’d feel better about everything if you could go to confession.”

“What if I’m not sure if I believe in God anymore?”

“To believe in Hell you kind of have to believe in God, don’t you? I mean without God and the possibility of redemption, eternal torture is sort of meaningless. Anyway, I never believed in God and confession helped me. I mean, you can always talk to me about anything but I think you’d feel better if you confessed and I mean everything, everything about us and the only one you could really do that to comfortably, I think, is Father Rossi.”

“I don’t think David wants to hear about my sex life.”

“Probably not but he’ll listen.”

“Can we stop talking about David when I’m lying on top of you and getting an erection?” Spencer shifted underneath him and grinned when Aaron’s hips made a little unconscious thrust as his cock thickened and lengthened. 

“What would you rather do?” Spencer’s fingers trailed down Aaron’s back making him shiver.

“Can I have you again or is it too soon? Will I hurt you?” Spencer took Aaron’s hand and guided it down between his legs where he felt something hard and possibly plastic. He frowned in confusion. 

“It’s a plug.”

“A plug?”

“Butt plug,” Spencer said, smiling slightly and Aaron could practically taste the laughter.

“What does it do?”

“Well, some vibrate. Some stimulate the prostate. This one is simple. It’s just keeping me open and ready for you.” Aaron couldn’t stop the whine that was ripped from his throat. “It’s also kept your cum inside me as we slept.” Aaron let his head fall forward on to Spencer’s shoulder and breathed heavily. “I slipped it in when we finished last night. You promised me a whole day in bed. I’m holding you to that promise.”

Aaron let his fingers trail down between Spencer’s legs to toy with the plug that had apparently been there the few short hours that they’d slept. Spencer whimpered and his hips bucked. “Am I hurting you?” Aaron asked, pulling back and brushing the hair out of Spencer’s eyes.

“Not at all. I’m just very sensitive. I warn you, I’m probably not going to last very long.”

“So I just pull it out?”

“Yup, pretty much.” Aaron couldn’t resist playing with it a little more and now he could see that Spencer’s reaction was pure arousal, the way he bit his lip, the way his fingers curled in the bedsheets. Then he gently eased the plug out and held it up to have a look. It was black and about the width of two of his fingers. Discarding it, he replaced it with his fingers and was amazed to feel that there was still lubrication there and that some of that was probably his own semen. That thought made him groan and he curled his fingers, looking for Spencer’s prostate. He wanted to watch his partner writhe beneath him. Spencer’s obliged, his neck elongated as he arched his back.

“Can you pass me the lube?” Aaron asked and Spencer flailed in the direction of the bottle that was still standing on the nightstand from last night. Aaron coated his fingers and put three into Spencer just to be sure then he spread the rest over his aching cock. The nightmare was near forgotten in his desperation to be inside Spencer again. “I missed this,” he sighed as he slid in. 

“It’s only been a few hours,” Spencer smiled, one hand reaching up to cradle Aaron’s jaw. Aaron turned his face to press a kiss to the palm. 

“I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I missed it too,” Spencer assured him and pulled him in closer until they were trading lazy kisses as Aaron kept undulating his hips in a gentle drag, in no rush at all. Spencer finally broke the contact with a gasp as Aaron shifted slightly. “Please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Aaron assured him and locked his elbows, angling his pelvis so that his thrusts were even and measured, each one raking against Spencer’s prostate and leaving the man shaking beneath him. Spencer’s hand fluttered in the air as he reached for his swollen cock but Aaron stopped him, shaking his head and placing the other man’s hand back against the mattress. “I want to watch you come just from this.”

“I – I don’t know if I can do that,” Spencer stuttered, his eyes wide. “I’ve ne – never – please Aaron – never done that.”

“Do you really want me to finish you off?” Aaron would. If that was what Spencer really wanted, then he would happily wrap his hand around Spencer’s cock.

“No,” Spencer breathed out. “I never want this to end.”

“We’ve got all day,” Aaron assured him and kept his even pace when as Spencer whined and whimpered. “We could do this all day long.”

Spencer’s responding laugh was a little wild sounding. “How did – oh please God – how did you get so good at this – holy fuck – so fast?”

“I had a good teacher,” Aaron ignored the blasphemy and focused on reading every micro-expression that passed across Spencer’s face. When the younger man bucked beneath him, legs rising off the bed, he took the hint and reached down to draw Spencer’s legs up over his shoulders. The hold gave him more leverage and he started thrusting a little faster, a little deeper. Spencer cried out and his hand made another aborted move towards his dick before he twisted the sheets in his fingers to stop himself. “How does it feel?” Aaron asked, his own voice roughed by the exertion.

“Like I’m right there. I’m just on the edge and it would be so easy to – oh holy fucking shit Aaron. Do that again. Yes. Right there. Like that. Harder. Fuck me. Harder. Just fucking go for it. You’ve got those quads for a reason.” Aaron couldn’t help the laugh that was ripped from his throat even as he quickened his pace until it felt almost brutal but Spencer still begged for more until, like a miracle, his cock seemed to swell and he was coming untouched over his own belly. Spencer’s eyes, which had been screwed shut, were suddenly wide open as he gazed down at his own cock in amazement. “I didn’t know it could do that.”

“How did it feel?” Aaron panted. “Tell me.” He kept his pace, fingers digging into Spencer’s thighs.

“Amazing. I didn’t even know that I was going to come at that moment. I was so close and then suddenly I was there and it was all perfect and you’re amazing, Aaron. I want to spend the rest of my life doing with you. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you and it’s going to be amazing.” Spencer was grinning broadly at him even as the bed shifted along the floor with every thrust.

“I love you,” Aaron whimpered and he was coming, his whole body stilling as he emptied himself deep inside the man who he was determined to make his husband someday soon. Spencer’s legs slipped from his shoulders and the younger man pulled him close into a passionate kiss until his softening cock slipped out and Aaron collapsed onto the bed still breathing heavily. 

“I love you too. We can sleep now, right?” Spencer murmured, curling up around Aaron’s body. Aaron wasn’t sure if he would be able to fall asleep again. He usually got up about this time anyway but before he knew it he had fallen into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

The next thing he knew, sunlight was streaming through the gap in between Spencer’s curtain promising one of those sunny but bitterly cold winter days. Aaron huddled further under the covers and Spencer rolled onto his back. Aaron pressed little kisses to Spencer’s collarbone, nipping lightly with his teeth. 

“What time is it?” Spencer asked in a sleep muffled voice as Aaron nuzzled his neck. 

Aaron raised his head to glance at the clock. “Just after twelve. We should eat something.”

“Are you suggesting blow jobs?” Spencer asked with a smile, his eyes still firmly shut.

“I was suggesting lunch but I’m not adverse to more sex.” Aaron paused and drew in a deep breath. He wanted to offer this but it didn’t change the fact that he was nervous about it. “Would you want to try me on the bottom? I mean, if you want and then you won’t get sore.”

Spencer’s eyes opened, disconcertingly alert for having just been asleep. He looked Aaron over carefully before he spoke and Aaron fought the urge to fidget. “I have a better idea.” Spencer smiled. “We’ll work up to it but you seemed to like my fingers that time in the hallway.”

Aaron swallowed heavily. He’d like that a lot. It felt so forbidden and so good. More of that would definitely be a good thing. “I did. Like it. I liked it.”

“Lie back. Legs up. Yes, bent at the knee. Just like that. Put a pillow under your hips.” Spencer prodded and manipulated his body until he was entirely open with Spencer lying between his legs, his breath ghosting over Aaron’s renewed erection. “Stop me at any time.”

“You always say that,” Aaron sighed, “but I never want you to stop.”

Spencer chuckled and licked the slit of Aaron’s penis before trailing his tongue down to the base. His long fingers were gripping Aaron’s thighs, keeping them spread open as he continued his way down, mouthing at Aaron’s balls. Aaron raised his head slightly as Spencer kept going, wet tongue lapping at his perineum before he realized where Spencer was going.

“Spencer are you – can you do that? Is that – Oh, oh, please –“ he pleaded as Spencer’s tongue circled around his hole. 

“Okay?” Spencer asked, his breath hot and wet.

“It feels amazing,” Aaron admitted. 

“Good,” Spencer muttered before diving back in, his tongue circling again before the tip poked into the tight muscle. Contrary to his expectations, Aaron felt his whole body relaxing, apparently it knew that he wanted more of this even if his mind was still reeling from the thought of Spencer’s tongue intruding into his ass. Spencer continued to lick and prod until Aaron felt the cool push of Spencer’s lubricated finger next to the warmth of his tongue. Spencer pulled back again. “Still okay?”

“Yes. More, please.” Aaron tried to spread his legs more to underline his point. He was rewarded with Spencer turning his talented mouth to his cock as his finger pushed into his ass. Even that one digit felt like an awful lot and Aaron wasn’t sure how Spencer managed to take his cock. When Spencer pushed in a second finger, he hummed around a mouthful of Aaron’s cock and the momentary discomfort was forgotten. His hips twitched and he hit the back of Spencer’s mouth but the mumbled apology was lost to another moan as Spencer crooked his fingers and suddenly Aaron was seeing stars in his vision. 

Spencer pulled off again and Aaron whined in protest. “I knew you’d like that. See I’m pretty sure that you could cum just on my cock. Especially if I talked through it. Still like my voice so much, Aaron?” Aaron whimpered an affirmative answer as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in, grazing his prostate. “I could blindfold you. It would be like when we first met. I’d just be a voice. And a cock up your ass.”

“Yes,” Aaron begged. “Yes. Please. Yes. Yes.” 

“Soon,” Spencer promised and wrapped his lips around Aaron’s cock again, sucking him down as he pushed in with his fingers again and Aaron came hot and hard with that one word echoing in his head. Spencer fisted his own cock over Aaron’s stomach as he lay sprawled on the bed, too boneless from orgasm to do more that murmur approval as Spencer came over his abdomen. 

They were still sprawled across the bed, in need of food and a shower when Spencer’s phone started to buzz angrily on the bedside table. “It’s Morgan.” Spencer said as he glanced at incoming call. “I should answer. I want you to hear if it’s about the case.” Aaron watched as Spencer thumbed the screen and put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey, Pretty Boy. Your man there with you?”

“Yes,” Spencer answered slowly. “Do you need to talk to him again?”

“No. The case is pretty much shut. Rossi isn’t being charged. They didn’t think they’d have much of a case against a priest who shot a serial killer to save another man’s life. I wanted to let you know. They are also releasing the crime scene, in case Father Hotchner needs to get some of his stuff.”

“Just Hotch,” Aaron mumbled.

“Hey Father, how are you?”

“I’m okay but I’m not a priest anymore, Derek, you can call me Hotch or Aaron.”

“Hotch. I like it. Suits you. So yeah, man, you can get anything you want from your place now.”

“Thanks Morgan,” Spencer said. 

“No problem. Be good. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Morgan hung up with a chuckle before Spencer could respond.

“Do you want to go get some stuff?” Spencer asked, laying back on the pillows.

Aaron considered it for a moment before remembering: “I promised you a whole day in bed.”

“We would need to leave at some point to eat. I am actually really hungry.”

“Me too.” Aaron admitted and then rubbed at the back of his neck. “I have to admit that I’m nervous about going back there.”

“Makes sense. We don’t have to. We could just order in and watch a movie.” Aaron looked around the room. Spencer’s living room was lined with bookshelves but there was a blank wall in his bedroom. He’d asked about it once and Spencer had admitted that he’d planned to draw a mural but never got around to it. There was enough room in the closet and the dresser. And that was about it. If Spencer agreed he could – “What are you thinking?” Spencer interrupted him, turning his face to stare at the blank wall too. 

“I could move in today.” Aaron blurted out. “I mean, if you want. We could do over there and box up all my stuff and then I’d be here. Permanently.”

Spencer’s smile was slow and beautiful. “I like that. That’s worth getting out of bed for. Okay, we’ll need to get boxes.”

“There’s not a lot. Mainly the records and I’ve got proper record cases for most of them under my bed. Most of my clothes are already here. So there’s just a few personal items.”

“And your blanket,” Spencer nudged him, his smile not faded one bit.

“And my blanket,” Aaron agreed with a smile of his own. 

“So, let’s get going.” Spencer smiled as he rose from the bed. “Shower, lunch, and then we’ll head over there.”

“We’ll need a truck or something. We’ll never fit all the records in your Amazon.”

“I’ll call Morgan and see if we can borrow his. You can drive it though. I hate driving trucks. I just kind of hate driving.”

“I know. I don’t mind.”

“Come shower with me,” Spencer held out his hand and Aaron gladly followed. He’d probably follow Spencer to the ends of the earth. The shower wasn’t much of a stretch. 

Morgan had no problem with them taking his truck, though he extracted a promise from Aaron that Spencer would not be driving. So by three o’clock they were pulling up outside the church. The sky was a flat grey, threatening rain. Aaron breathed out heavily and jumped out the truck, grabbing some flat packed boxes from the back, as Spencer did the same. 

“We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” Spencer assured him as he paused outside the door to the church. The tape over the entrance had been neatly sliced open and Morgan had assured them that they were free to enter. He just wasn’t sure if he could. Of course, the body would be gone but would the blood still be staining the concrete floor. “Or you can wait in the car while I box everything up.”

“No. It’s fine. I can do this.” Aaron steeled himself and pushed open the heavy wooden doors. They seemed to resist his touch as they never had before as if just the past couple of days of his absence had rusted their hinges and warped their wood. He fumbled along the wall for the light switch which was usually left on. The bulbs flickered in protest at being roused and made the stained glass window flash in and out of focus. Aaron knew it was just his imagination but Christ looked more afflicted with his suffering, the lines carved deeper into his face than they had last week. He crossed himself and strode down the aisle telling himself not to look, not to look but, of course, he looked at the patch of floor where Nathan had breathed his last breath. There was nothing there.

“The cleaners have been,” Spencer muttered from over his shoulder, Aaron looked at him blankly. “The crime scene cleaners. It’s a job. They’re very thorough.”

“They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor,” Aaron hummed to himself, looking again at the pained face of the Son. “O children, lift up your voice, rejoice.”

“What?” Spencer asked.

“It’s a song.”

“There’s a song for everything,” Spencer said speculatively. “I guess you just have to know it.”

“I guess so. Shall we?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready. There’s nothing left here for me.”

“You say that now.” Aaron shrugged and tore his eyes away from the bloodied side, pierced by the spear, gaping wound, blood sluggishly spreading over the ground, soaking into his cassock. Shaking himself, he put his head down and hurried into his quarters, ready to leave this tomb. He could hear Spencer following, his wet shoes squeaking slightly as he passed through the door and onto the linoleum of Aaron’s kitchen. “Okay, tell me what to do.” 

Aaron motioned for him to start making up the banker’s boxes they’d brought. He went into his bedroom and pulled his empty duffel bag from underneath the bed. His clothes were quickly folded into it, leaving it only half full. He left his clerical shirts and robes where they were. He had no more use for them. In the bathroom, he dropped his shaving kit and shower gel on top and finished it off by shoving his running shoes in. Spencer offered him a box and he looked around the kitchen. There wasn’t really anything here that was his but he took any food that would spoil, left the coffee and tea for his successor. Spencer carefully folded the blanket from the sofa and reverently placed it on top of that box, smoothing it with his hands. 

“Records and record player,” Aaron spoke for the first time since they’d entered the apartment. His voice seemed to echo and ring even though they had hardly removed anything yet, it just seemed to sense the encroaching absence. 

“Pack the record player last. Play me some music while we pack.” Spencer smiled at him and tentatively reached out. Aaron drew him in close, breathing deeply and inhaling the scent of his future. It smelled like old books and cinnamon. 

Linking hands, he led Spencer to the bedroom. Trailing his fingers along the shelves, he picked the album he’d been humming earlier. Nick Cave suited his melancholy mood. From underneath the bed, he began pulling out his old leather record cases just as the piano started.

“So, just keep them in order?” Spencer asked, hesitating in front of Aaron’s meticulous system.

“Don’t worry too much about it. I’ll organize them at – at home.”

Spencer smiled and started carefully slipping the sleeves into the cases and then into boxes when they ran out of space. It took them until the end of the album and then Aaron carefully picked up the record player to carry out to the truck first. Spencer followed with the first box and in three trips they were done. 

“So, this is it,” Aaron looked back at the church as he loaded the last box into the back of Morgan’s truck. 

“You can always come back,” Spencer murmured, standing shoulder to shoulder with him as a light drizzle soaked them.

“No. I can’t. It won’t be the same.”

“It never is. Whenever I go back to Vegas it’s always different.”

“Would you take me? I’ve never been.”

“Sure. My mom would like to meet you. I’ve told her all about you in my letters.”

“We should do that. We’ve both got the free time, right now.” Aaron let his eyes graze the shell of the church that he had called home for so many years. He saw how brittle the plaster looked, the crack at the base of the door. His eyes settled on the extinguished cross. He wondered who had turned out the light. He wondered if anyone would remember to turn it on again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that there is only one more chapter after this one. Yup, this is coming to an end. I'm hoping to post it in the next few days.


	20. Epilogue

Spencer let out a low whistle and slouched back against the kitchen counter as Aaron appeared in the doorway, fiddling with his cuffs. “Wow. And I thought you looked good in a collar. That suit is – wow.”

 

Aaron grinned at him, that wonderfully dimpled smile that still made Spencer’s stomach flip. There had been a couple of months after the whole Nathan Harris thing when Spencer had worried that Aaron would never smile as easily as he used to but slowly Aaron had recovered. Determined to capitalize on their freedom and to take Aaron’s mind off what had happened, Spencer had booked flights the day after they had emptied Aaron’s old apartment at the church. They’d taken a trip to Vegas together while Spencer was still suspended and Aaron had walked around with wide eyes, taking in all the lights. He’d frowned at Spencer’s gambling but desperately dragged him off to their hotel room after every big win. However, it was Spencer’s mouth that dropped open when Aaron dragged him into a little chapel off the strip and asked him to marry him. Spencer’s eidetic memory may not apply to spoken words but he’d never the exact intonation of Aaron’s voice as he’d dropped to one knee and said: ‘Spencer Reid, would you do me the honour of marrying me?’ When Spencer had just continued to stare, Aaron had misinterpreted his silence. Really, he just hadn’t understood how Aaron was the one being honoured. Aaron looked more than a little nervous as he reassured him: ‘I asked your mother this morning and she agreed, but I’m losing my eyes if I hurt you. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I realize that this is impetuous and probably too soon but I thought –‘ Spencer had hauled him to his feet and practically marched him down the aisle without ever looking back.

 

Here in the kitchen, he twisted his ring on his finger and trailed his gaze up and down the perfectly tailored suit in front of him. His cock started to take interest as he imagined peeling Aaron out of everything that he was wearing and bending him over the table. Aaron pointed one finger at him. “Oh no. I know that look. You just hold that thought until after my interview. I cannot stand in front of the board of directors of Stand up for Kids with cum stains on my pants.”

 

Spencer shrugged, unrepentant. “When we get home then?”

 

“Definitely,” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck. “I look okay?”

 

“You look great, Aaron. Not just sexy. You look very professional. I’m sure you’ll get this position. You’re perfect for it.”

 

“I hope so. I mean after –“

 

“Stop. Nathan was one kid. I have all those glowing letters from kids and their parents in Bellevue to back me up when I say that you are great at youth outreach.”

 

“Okay. Yes. You’re right.” Aaron glanced at his watch. “We’d better leave or you’ll be late for work.”

 

“Yup, you’re right. Here’s your coffee.” Spencer handed Aaron his travel mug and grabbed his satchel from where he’d left it across the back of chair. “My new unit chief is a totally asshole if I’m late. He superglues my coffee mug to my desk.”

 

“You need to remember to invite him and Savannah over for dinner.”

 

“I bet she’s pregnant. Everyone is pregnant.”

 

“Just JJ.”

 

“And I think Kate is too. We are going to be overrun with BAU babies. Garcia will be impossible.”

 

“You are so excited to be a godfather.” JJ had asked Spencer at the weekend when she’d been over with Will for dinner and Spencer had answered with a dumbfounded silence before simply grinning and pulling JJ into an unprecedented hug.

 

As they left the apartment, Spencer turned his face up to the sky, clear blue with fluffy white clouds that looked pasted on with UHU glue. Spring had finally come. It had been a long but wonderful winter that had changed the course of Spencer’s life forever. Aaron’s as well, of course. Now he was a married man, work was better than it had been since before Gideon’s departure, and he suddenly had a circle of friends. Really, life was pretty damn good. Reid grinned to the Heavens before following his husband down the street to his battered little Amazon. Aaron stopped him with a hand and pressed a small kiss to his cheek before stepping around to the driver’s side and slipping into the car he had nicknamed Donna. If Aaron got this job, Spencer would probably need to think about buying him a car. Aaron would protest but it would be a good gift for a new job and he’d made a fair bit of money on their Vegas trip, much to Aaron’s discomfort as he still wasn’t sure how he felt about the profits of Spencer’s card counting abilities.

 

On the drive to Quantico, Aaron hummed along to his music that still washed over Spencer without leaving much of an impression even though he had made a sincere effort to learn at least a few bands. Driving always seemed to relax Aaron; Spencer found that he clenched his jaw when he drove too long and it gave him a headache. Only the way his finger drummed on the leather of the steering wheel betrayed Aaron’s anxiety about the upcoming interview.

 

Aaron pulled the car over to the side of the road and Spencer checked to make sure he had everything in his satchel. “I’ll pick you up around 18:00.”

 

“Sounds good. I’ll text if we get a case.” Aaron hummed his agreement and visibly steeled himself with a deep breath. From here, he was driving to his interview. Taking Spencer to Quantico had been a rather pointless detour but Aaron hadn’t wanted to wait in the house until his eleven o’clock interview slot. “You’ll do great,” Spencer assured Aaron one last time as he leaned across to give him a lingering kiss. “I believe in you.”

 

“You know what,” Aaron’s lips tilted into that barely there smile that made Spencer feel like a great secret was being revealed to him and him alone, “I believe in me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who joined me on this crazy journey. This story was a bit of a runaway train. I honestly just wanted to write some sexy times with priest!Aaron and it turned into this. I regret nothing. Again, thanks for all the comments, kudos, and your patience. You are all awesome.


End file.
